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THE 


U 


DEMI-MONDE:" 


%  Siitirt  011  Sfitidg. 


FROM   THE   FRENCH   OP 

ALEXANDRE  DUMAS,  Jr. 


BY 


MRS.    E.    G.    SQUIER. 


PHILADELPHIA : 
J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT    &    CO. 

1858. 


TEANSLATOFS  NOTE. 


The  publication  of  "  La  Dame  Aux  C Amelias,"  by 
the  younger  Dumas,  drew  upon  him  no  small  degree  of 
censure,  even  in  Paris,  as  an  apotheosis  of  a  character 
which  well-organized  society  condemns.  It  is  said  that 
"Le  Demi-Monde"  was  written  as  a  counterpoise  to 
the  previous  production;  a  weight  thrown  into  the  scale 
of  pubhc  opinion,  to  restore  the  equilibrium  of  a  sinking 
reputation.  But  whatever  the  motive  which  led  to  its 
production,  or  whether  it  efiFected  the  object  attributed 
to  it,  is  a  question  of  little  importance  to  the  American 
reader.  Upon  one  point,  however,  there  can  be  no  dif- 
ferences of  opinion,  namely — that  it  daguerreotypes, 
with  great  fidelity,  a  phase  of  society  not  uncommon  in 
Europe,  perhaps  not  impossible  in  America,  which  offers, 
at  the  same  time,  a  fair  mark  for  the  satirist,  and  a 
theme  of  discourse  for  the  moralist.  It  may,  however, 
be  questioned  whether  the  exhortations  of  the  preacher 
or  the  shafts  of  the  play-wright  will  do  most  to  prevent 

or  extirpate  a  social  excrescence  like  "the  Demi-Monde." 

(iil) 


iv  TRANSLATOR'S    NOTE. 

At  any  rate,  Dumas  has  unveiled  its  features  with  a  bold 
hand,  and  exhibited  the  skeletons  of  jealousy,  deceit,  and 
remorse,  that  lie  beneath  its  gay  and  painted  exterior. 
He  has  "pointed  a  moral"  which  it  is  to  be  hoped  the 
translation  will  convey,  although  it  cannot  aspire  to  the 
grace  of  language,  or  the  sparkle  and  pungency  of  ex- 
pression, which  distinguish  the  original. 

New  York,  May,  1868. 


THE 


a 


DEMI-MONDE." 


1* 


CAST  OF  CHARACTERS, 

As  Performed  at  the  "Gymnase-Dramatique"  Theatre, 
Paris,  March  20th,  1855. 

Db  Nanjac MM.  Berton. 

Oliveb  db  Jalin Dcpuis. 

De  TnONNERINS ViLLARS. 

HiPPOLYTE  RiCHOND LaNDROL. 

Baronness  D'Angk    .        .        .       Madames  RosE-CufiRi.  , 

Madame  de  Santi^ Fioeac. 

Countess  de  VKRNifiBES      ....      Mf;LANrK. 
Marcella Laurentine. 


COSTUMES, 

Those  of  (he  Present  Day. 

First  Act  is  at  Oliver's  House. 
Second  Act  is  at  the  Countess  de  Verniferes. 
Third  Act  is  at  Madame  D'Ange's. 
Fourth  Act  is  at  Madame  D'Ange's. 
Fifth  Act,  same  as  First. 

The  Scene  is  laid  in  Paris. 

(Ti) 


ACT     riEST. 

Eoom  in  Oliver^s  House. 
COUNTESS  AND  OLIYER. 

Countess, 
Then  you  promise  me  this  matter  shall  be  amicably  settled  ? 

Oliver. 
Be  assured,  I  will  do  my  utmost. 

Countess. 
I  came  myself  to  ask  of  you  this  favor,  at  the  risk  of  meet- 
ing here — the  Lord  knows  who ! 

Oliver. 
Do  I,  then,  keep  such  disreputable  company  ? 

COUXTESS. 

The  world  says  so ! 

Oliver. 
The  world  is  mistaken,  then,  for  none  except  your  friends 
visit  here. 

Countess. 

That  is  flattering  to  my  friends ! 

Oliver. 
But  dont  be  alarmed  about  your  reputation  on  account  of 
this  visit ;  for  even  if  you  were  seen  here,  the  object  of  your 
coming  could  be  easily  explained.  Two  of  your  friends, 
Messrs.  Maucroix  and  Latour,  have  disagreed  at  cards ;  an 
explanation  has  become  necessary ;  it  is  to  take  place  at  my 

1 


8  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

house;  I  act  as  Monsieur  de  Maucroix's  friend,  and  you 
come  to  beg  rae  to  settle  the  matter  amicably.  All  this  is 
natural ! 

Countess. 
Certainly ;  yet  I  wish  the  world  to  be  ignorant  of  this  visit, 
for  I  am  unwilling  to  have  it  known  in  Paris  that  I  permit . 
gambling  in  my  house.  If  this  matter  should  result  seriously, 
there  will  be  an  action  at  law,  and  for  a  woman  of  position  to 
be  arraigned,  even  as  a  witness,  and  have  her  name  in  the 
papers — the  thought  is  dreadful  1  I  entreat  you,  therefore, 
to  do  your  utmost  toward  a  friendly  settlement  of  this  affair ; 
or,  if  it  cannot  be  arranged,  in  the  name  of  our  friendship  I 
beg  of  you  let  the  cause  of  the  duel  be  assigned  to  something 
in  which  I  am  not  even  indirectly  implicated.  I  allow  cards 
for  amusement,  not  to  create  disputes ! 

OUVEB. 

It  shall  be  as  you  desire. 

Countess. 
Upon  this  assurance,  as  Madame  de  Santis  has  not  arrived, 
I  will  take  my  leave. 

Oliver. 
Ah  I     Then  you  expected  Madame  de  Santis  here  ? 

Countess. 
Yes ;  when  she  heard  that  I  contemplated  visiting  you, 
she  said  that  she  also  would  be  glad  to  see  you,  and  would 
stop  here  for  me.  But  she  is  such  a  madcap,  that  she  has 
doubtless  forgotten  her  promise.  So  adieu!  But  let  me 
observe  that  you  have  not  even  inquired  for  my  niece,  who 
desired  to  be  remembered  to  you. 

Oliver. 
She  is  very  kind ! 


ACT  I.— SCENE  I.  .  9 

Countess. 
Ah  yes ;  she  is  a  good  girl,  and  really  likes  you,  although 
she  knows  you  would  not  marry  her. 

Oliver. 
Assuredly  not ! 

Countess. 
My  dear  friend,  you  might  do  worse ;  besides,  she  is  of- 
ered  a  much  better  position  than  you  could  give  her ! 

Oliver. 
Are  you  sure  of  that  ? 

Countess. 
Certainly;    you  are  not  noble  by  birth,  nor  have  you 
wealth  to  commend  you. 

Oliver. 
No  1     Only  a  rent-roll  of  thirty  thousand  francs  1 

Countess. 
Not  bad ;  but  then  you  have  a  family  ? 

Oliver. 
Every  one  has  a  family ;  mine  is  reduced  to  a  mother, 
who  is  married  a  second  time ;  an(J,  as  at  my  majority  I  en- 
tered a  suit  against  her  husband  to  recover  my  father's  for- 
tune, we  see  each  other  rarely,  and  I  fancy  that  she  has  but 
little  affection  for  me,  A  widowed  mother  should  never 
marry;  for  in  giving  up  the  name  of  the  father  of  her 
children,  she  becomes  almost  a  stranger  to  them.  This  is 
the  reason,  my  dear  Countess,  why  I  became  so  early  my 
own  master;  this  is  why  I  have  been  extravagant  and  wild; 
why  I  am  now  too  wise  to  marry  your  niece,  although  I  was 
once  tempted  to  do  so,  finding  her  so  charming  and  at  the 
same  time  an  orphan  ! 


10  -,  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Countess. 
What !  you  were  tempted  to  marry  her  ? 

Oliver. 
Yes;  I  was  really  attached  to  her,  and  had  I  continued 
my  visits  to  your  house,  should  probably  have  ended  by  ask- 
ing her  hand ;  and  that  would  have  been  the  extreme  of 
folly. 

Countess. 
Because  she  is  poor? 

Oliver. 
No  1     I  am  not  a  man  to  marry  for  money !     I  had  a  bet- 
ter reason  1 

Countess. 
What  reason  ? 

Oliver. 
We  men  of  the  world  are  not  as  simple  as  we  may  appear ; 
and  when  we  marry  it  is  with  the  hope  of  finding  in  our  new 
relation  what  we  have  elsewhere  sought  in  vain;  and  the 
longer  we  live,  the  more  desirous  we  become  of  having  for 
companions  women  who  are  ignorant  of  what  is  called  the 
world.  Those  girls  who,  before  marriage,  have  already  ac- 
quired a  reputation  for  wit  or  independence,  make  poor  wives. 
Look  at  Madame  de  Santis ! 

Countess. 
But  Marcella  is  not  at  all  like  Valentina. 

Oliver. 
Which,  however,  does  not  prevent  Madame  de  Santis, 
separated  from  an  unknown  husband,  compromised  and  com- 
promising as  she  is,  from  having,  for  an  intimate  friend. 
Mademoiselle  Sancenaux,  your  niece.  I  appeal  to  you ;  is 
Madame  de  Santis  a  fit  companion  for  a  girl  of  eighteen  ? 


ACT  L— SCENE  I.  H 

COCNTESS. 

What  would  you  have?  Marcella  cannot  do  without 
amusement;  I  have  no  fortune;  Madame  de  Santis  has  a 
box  at  the  opera,  and  a  carriage ;  Marcella  occupies  a  seat 
in  both  !  The  poor  child  must  be  diverted ;  and,  after  all, 
she  does  nothing  wrong ! 

Oliver. 

True,  she  does  nothing  wrong ;  but  who  can  answer  for 
her  future  conduct,  with  such  an  example  before  her  ? 

Countess. 
But,  my  dear  Oliver — 

Olivek. 
You  are  rearing  her  badly,  very  badly!  Do  you  know 
what  you  should  have  done  ?  Three  years  ago  you  should 
have  confided  your  niece  to  the  Marquis  de  Thonnerins,  who, 
on  her  leaving  school,  offered  to  bring  her  up  with  his  own 
daughter.  In  that  case  Marcella,  at  this  moment,  would 
have  been  in  good  society,  and  sure  of  marrying  honorably 
and  well.     That  is  now  entirely  out  of  the  question. 

COCXTESS. 

You  are  harsh,  Oliver;  I  loved  her  too  fondly  to  part 

with  her. 

Oliver. 

It  was  selfishness,  not  love ;  you  will  live  to  regret  it,  and 
she  will  live  to  reproach  you. 

Couxtess. 
Not  so;    for  she  can  marry  within  two  months,  if  she 
wishes ;  and  she  will  make  a  charming  wife ;  for  wives,  after 
all,  are  just  what  their  husbands  choose  to  make  them. 

Oliver. 
Yes,  and  husbands  are  what  their  wives  choose  to  render 
them !     But  to  whom  do  you  now  propose  to  marry  her  ? 


12  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Countess. 
To  a  young  man — 

Oliver. 
Who  loves  and  is  beloved  by  Mademoiselle  de  Sancenaux  ? 

Countess. 
No ;  but  that  is  of  little  consequence !     In  marriage,  if 
there  be  love,  habit  destroys  it ;  but  when  love  does  not  ex- 
ist, habit  calls  it  into  life ! 

Oliver. 
You  speak  like  LarochefoucanJd ;  but  who  is  this  young 
man? 

Countess. 

Monsieur  de  Latour  presented  him. 

Oliver. 
Monsieur  de  Latour !     A  trumpery  piece  of  dry  goods — 
half  silk,  half  cotton! 

Countess. 

Hear  me;  I  understand  men,  and  I  will  answer  for  him. 
He  is  just  the  husband  for  Marcella.  He  is  young,  hand- 
some, thirty  at  most,  an  oflficer  of  rank,  without  family  (ex- 
cept a  young  sister,  a  widow,  living  retired  in  the  Fau- 
bourg St.  Germain),  has  an  income  of  twenty  thousand 
pounds,  is  free  as  air,  at  liberty  to  marry  to-morrow  if  he 
likes,  knows  no  one  in  Paris  except  Monsieur  de  Latour, 
Marcella,  and  myself.  The  opportunity  is  a  happy  one,  as 
I  am  sure  you  will  be  the  first  to  admit,  when  you  come  to 
know  him, 

Oliver. 

Oh  !     Am  I  then  to  know  the  gentleman  ? 

Countess. 
To-day :  he  is  Monsieur  de  Latour's  second. 


ACT  I.— SCENE  I.  13 

Oliver. 
Then  it  was  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  who  sent  me  his  card 
yesterday,  and  promised  to  call  here  to-day  at  three  o'clock  ? 

Countess. 
The  same.  Now  be  quiet  and  good-natured,  as  you  can 
be  when  you  wish;  and  should  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  and 
yourself  become  intimate,  which  is  quite  likely,  and  your  con- 
versation ever  turn  on  Marcella,  do  not  put  your  absurd  no- 
tions into  his  head  ;  that's  all  1 

[^Servant  announces  MAda»i;e  de  Santis.] 

Enter  Valentina. 

COUXTESS. 

Here  at  last,  my  child  1     Where  have  you  been  ? 

Valentina. 
Don't  ask  me !     I  thought  I  should  never  have  finished. 
[ To  Oliver.']     Are  you  well  ? 

Oliver. 

Perfectly ! 

Valentina. 

Just  imagine ;  as  I  was  about  leaving  home,  who  should 
come  in  but  my  dress-maker ;  I  had  to  be  fitted — oh,  what  a 
beautiful  dress  I  have  ordered  for  the  races  to-morrow ! 
Then  I  went  to  select  a  carriage  and  horses ;  hired  a  famous 
English  coachman ;  called  on  my  landlord — do  you  know  I 
am  about  to  move  ?  By-the-way,  what  rent  do  you  pay 
here? 

Oliver. 
Three  thousand  francs. 

Valentina. 
But  you  are  out  of  the  world — in  a  perfect  desert ;  I  should 
die  of  ennui  in  such  a  secluded  place.     I  have  found,  in  Rue 


l^  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

de  la  Paix,  a  love  of  an  apartment:  second  story  front; 
three  thousand  five  hundred  francs;  the  landlord  to  do  the 
paper  hanging.  The  drawing-room  shall  be  in  crimson  and 
gold ;  my  bed-chamber  in  amber  brocatelle ;  the  boudoir  in 
blue  satin!  The  furniture  shall  be  new,  and  everything 
sumptuously  beautiful ! 

Omvkr. 
And  how  will  you  pay  for  all  this  ? 

Valentina. 
How  ?     Haven't  I  my  marriage  portion  ? 

Oliver. 
It  will  not  go  far,  at  this  rate. 

Valentina. 
I  have  still  twenty  thousand  francs,  or  thereabouts.  By- 
the-way,  my  dear  friends,  if  you  should  ever  require  money, 
let  me  recommend  you  to  my  agent,  Monsieur  Michel.  I 
could  not  wait  for  him  to  sell  my  property  in  Touraine,  so 
he  took  the  title-deeds,  and  himself  advanced  me  five  thou- 
sand francs  at  eight  per  cent.     Quite  moderate,  wasn't  it  ? 

Oliver. 
This  Michel  is  small  and  thin ;  he  wears  moustaches,  and 
embroidered  shirt-bosoms,  and  waistcoats  with  enamelled 
buttons  ? 

Valentina. 
Yes ;  he  is  a  thorough  gentleman ! 

Oliver. 
That  depends  upon  the  point  of  view.  Are  you  aware  that 
he  is  a  thief?  I  know  him  well;  he  used  to  lend  me  money 
before  I  became  of  age.  If  you  are  in  his  hands,  your  five 
thousand  francs  will  not  last  long ;  and  when  they  are  gone, 
what  will  you  do  then  ? 


ACT  I.— SCENE  I.  15 

Valenti.va. 
Have  I  not  a  husband  ?     He  owes  me  a  support !     I  am 
indisputably  his  wife.     If  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  I 
can  return  to  him. 

Oliver. 
Fortunate  man !     He  probably  does  not  dream  what  hap- 
piness is  in  store  for  him !     But  suppose  he  objects  to  this 
neat  arrangement  ? 

Valentixa. 
He  cannot !     "We  are  not  legally  separated.     I  have  the 
right  to  return  to  the  conjugal  roof  when  I  choose.     He  is 
obliged  to  receive  me ;  and,  after  all,  that  is  just  what  he 
would  like ;  for  he  still  desperately  loves  me. 

Oliver. 
I  am  curious  to  see  the  end  of  this ! 

Valextina. 
You  shall !  Let  me  reflect,  where  else  was  I  ?  Nowhere, 
I  believe.  I  returned  by  the  Champs  de  Elysees,  met  all  the 
world,  and  saw  all  the  men,  including  little  Bonchamp,  Count 
Bryad,  and  Monsieur  Casavaux !  I  invited  them  all  to  tea 
to-morrow;  will  you  join  us  ? 

Oliver. 
Thank  you,  no ! 

Yalentixa. 
Oh  yes ;  and  then  I  went  to  my  milliner  and  paid  her  bill. 
But  I  can  patronize  her  no  longer,  she  works  only  for  ac- 
tresses !  There,  I  believe  I  have  given  you  an  account  of 
my  whole  day.  [To  the  Countess.']  To-morrow  we  are  to 
dine  with  Monsieur  de  Calvillot.  He  has  a  charming  house, 
and  has  asked  me  to  invite  the  ladies.  You  will  come  with 
Marcella  ?     We  shall  have  a  delightful  time  I 


16  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Oliver. 
Poor  woman  I 

Valentina. 
What's  the  matter  ? 

Oliver. 

Nothing ;  only  I  pity  you  1 

Valentina. 
And  why  ? 

Oliver. 

Because  you  are  to  be  pitied.     If  you  do  not  understand 

me,  I  will  not  waste  time  in  explanations. 

Valentina. 
Oh  1  by-the-way,  I  knew  I  had  something  to  ask  of  you. 
When  did  you  hear  from  Madame  D'Ange  ? 

Oliver. 
I  do  not  correspond  with  her. 

Valentina. 
Did  she  not  write  to  you  from  Baden  ? 

Ouver. 
No. 

Valentina. 

Do  you  say  this  to  me — ^to  me,  who —  [^Laughs.'] 

Oliver. 
To  you,  who — 

Valentina. 
Why,  man,  I  mailed  the  letters !     Come,  I  can  keep  a  se- 
cret, wild  as  I  appear  to  be.     Yes,  and  charming  letters  they 
were!  [Lauglis.'] 

Oliver. 
Well  1  I  have  not  heard  from  her  these  two  weeks  1 


ACT  I.— SCENE  I.  17 

Valentina. 
No ;  not  since  my  departure ! 

Oliver. 

And  has  she  not  written  to  you  ? 

« 

Valentina. 
No ;  she  never  writes. 

Oliver. 
What  is  the  matter  with  you  ? 

Valentina. 
How  ?    Where  ? 

Countess. 

He  is  trying  to  plague  you. 

Oliver. 
You  are  very  black  about  the  eyes ! 

Valentina. 
Ah !  you  are  as  bad  as  the  rest ;  you  fancy  I  color  my 
eyebrows  and  eyelashes.     Yes,  and  would  you  believe  it,  half 
the  world  thinks  I  paint  ray  cheeks  I 

Oliver. 
[Smiling.^     And  the  other  half  is  sure  of  it  1 

Valentina. 
You  are  a  fool  I 

Oliver. 

Come,  admit  that  you  use  powder  ? 

Valentina. 
Well,  yes ;  all  women  use  that. 

Oliver. 
And  you  rouge  ? 

2* 


18  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Valentin  A. 
[Indignantly.']     Never! 

Oliver.  ^ 

[  Scrutinizing  her.  ]     Never  ? 

Vale.vtina. 
Sometimes  of  an  evening,  but  very  little. 

OUVEB. 

And  you  never  pencil  your  eyebrows? 

Vai^ntina. 
Since  it  is  the  fashion — 

Oliver. 
Pardon  me,  not  for  ladies  1 

Valextina. 
"What's  the  harm,  after  all,  if  it  be  becoming  ?    Every  one 
knows  me  to  be  a  woman  of  birth  and  position. 

Oliver. 
Oh !  that  is  very  apparent.  [Smiles  mockingly.'] 

COCNTESS. 

Come,  come,  have  you  finished  ?    We  must  go. 

Valextina. 
If  you  wish,  I  will  take  you  to  see  my  new  apartments. 

Countess. 
With  pleasure. 

Valextina. 
[To  Oliver.]    Will  you  not  come  with  us,  so  that  I  may 
profit  by  your  taste  and  artistic  suggestions  ? 

Oliver. 
I  cannot  go  out;  I  am  expecting  a  visitor. 


ACT  I.— SCENE  I.  19 

Valentina. 
Whom  ? 

Oliver. 

One  of  my  friends,  Monsieur  Hippolyte  Richond,  who  has 

been  travelling  abroad  for  the  last  ten  years.     He  has  been 

in  Paris  only  a  few  days.     He  is  the  son  of  a  rich  merchant 

in  Marseilles.     Now  are  you  satisfied  ?    Do  you  know  him  ? 


No,  I  do  not. 
Is  he  married  ? 

Yes. 


Valentina. 

cocntess. 

Oliver. 


Valentina. 
Do  you  know  his  wife  ? 

Oliver. 
His  wife,  and  also  his  son  I 

Valentina. 
He  has  a  son  then  ? 

Oliver, 
Yes,  five  or  six  years  of  age.    But  why  should  this  astonish 
you,  since  you  do  not  know  him  ? 

Valentina. 
Where  does  this  Monsieur  Richond  reside  ? 

Oliver. 
You  are  very  curious !     Well,  he  resides  at  number  seven, 
Rue  de  Lille.     If  you  are  desirous  to  know  him,  wait  a  few 
moments ;  he  will  soon  be  here,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  intro- 
duce you. 


20  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Valentina. 
Oh !  no,  no  1  I  don't  wish  to  meet  him  I 

Oliver. 
Why  not  ?     What's  the  matter  ? 

Valentina. 
Nothing  1  nothing  I  good-bye! 

\_Servant  announces  Monsieur  Hippolyte  Richond.] 

Enter  Hippolytk. 

Oliver. 
[jTo  Valentina.']     Here  is  a  good  opportunity;  shall  I 
introduce  you  ? 

Valentina. 
No ;  let  me  go  ! 
ILoioers  her  veil,  and  passing  before  Richond,  goes  ovt  tvUh 
the  Countess.] 

Oliver. 
You  are  well ;  and  your  wife  ? 

Hippolyte. 
All  well,  thank  yon.     But  who  is  the  lady  that  just  left 
you? 

Oliver. 
Madame  de  Santis. 

Hippolyte. 
Valentina  1 

Oliver. 
Ahl  you  know  her? 

Hippolyte. 
^Personally,  no ;  but  I  was  well  acquainted  with  her  hus- 
band. 


ACT  I.— SCENE  I.  21 

Then  she  is  really  married  ? 

HiPPOLYTE, 

Most  assuredly! 

Oliver. 
Indeed  !     She  pretends  that  her  husband  was  wrong — 

HiPPOLYTB. 

That  is  true,  he  was  wrong ;  wrong  to  have  married  her. 
But  are  you  intimate  with  her  ? 

Oliver. 
Only  honorably :  she  stopped  here  for  the  old  lady  whom 
y  on  saw  with  her.     Xow  that  I  think  of  it,  when  I  men- 
tio  ned  your  name  she  started,  and  changed  color ;  yet  she 
denied  knowing  you. 

Htfpolyte. 
We  have  never  spoken,  but  she  knows  that  I  am  ac- 
quainted with  her  whole  history. 

Oliver. 
That  accounts  for  her  confusion.     But  who  is  Monsieur 
de  Santis? 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Her  husband's  name  is  not  de  Santis.  She  assumed  her 
mother's  name,  after  her  separation,  when  her  husband  for- 
bade her  bearing  his. 

Oliver. 

What  wrong  had  she  done  him  ? 

HiPPOLYTE. 

What  wrong?  She  unworthily  deceived  a  brave,  noble 
man,  who  loved  her  devotedly.  She  was  beautiful,  fascinat- 
ing, without  fortune ;  but  my  friend  was  rich,  in  love,  young, 
and  bashful ;    he  dared  not  ask  her  hand !      The  person 


22  TIIK  DEMI-MONDE. 

who  had  introduced  him  offered  to  propose  to  her  in  his 
name,  and  he  gratefully  accepted  the  offer.  The  marriage 
toolc  place,  that. person  being  one  of  the  two  witnesses. 

Oliver. 
And  you  were  the  other  ? 

HiPPOLYTE. 

No !  Six  months  after  his  marriage,  the  husband  came 
to  me  with  the  damning  proofs  that  his  wife  was,  and  had 
been,  the  mistress  of  the  man  who  had  arranged  the  mar- 
riage 1  He  challenged  and  killed  the  deceiver,  and  then  left 
the  country,  settling  on  his  wife  twenty  thousand  francs,  but 
forbidding  her  to  bear,  or  even  to  mention  his  name.  This 
was  ten  years  ago,  and  since  that  hour  they  have  not  met. 

Oliver. 
But  where  is  her  husband  now  ? 

HiPPOI.VTE. 

He  lives  abroad.     I  met  him  two  months  ago,  in  Germany. 

Oliver. 
Does  he  still  love  his  wife  ? 

HiPPOLyTE. 

I  think  not. 

Oliver. 

She  pretends  that  he  is  still  attached  to  her,  and  ready  to 
receive  her  with  open  arms. 

Hippolyte. 
But  who  is  the  old  lady  with  whom  she  went  out  ?     Her 
mother  ? 

Oliver. 
No ;  she  is  the  wreck  of  a  woman  of  rank,  whom  love  of 
luxury  and  pleasure  has  dragged,  little  l)y  little,  into  very 
questionable  society.     She  ruined  her  husband  by  her  ex- 


ACT  I.— SCENE  L  28 

travagance,  after  which  he  had  the  good  taste  to  die.  That 
was  some  ten  or  twelve  years  ago.  A  few  old  friends,  some 
trifling  remnants  of  her  shipwTeeked  fortune,  which  the 
waves  from  time  to  time  cast  within  her  reach,  are  now 
her  only  resources.  She  has  a  beautiful  young  niece,  of 
whom  she  is  very  fond,  although  she  is  rearing  her  badly,  on 
whose  marriage  she  depends  for  the  regilding  of  her  tar- 
nished escutcheon.  The  only  trouble  is,  that  she  finds  no 
suitable  husband.  She  does  her  utmost  toward  keeping  up 
appearances,  gives  parties,  while  the  guests  have  a  painful 
consciousness  that  her  coffers  are  empty,  and  that  probably 
her  very  furniture  is  mortgaged  to  pay  for  the  rose-colored 
tapers,  the  punch,  and  the  ices  !  The  young  men  whom  she 
invites  eat  the  ices,  drink  the  punch,  send  bonbons  to  the 
niece,  but  they  end  by  marrying  women  of  true  position,  and 
afterwards  hardly  recognize  the  Countess  and  her  relative, 
fearing  lest  they  shall  be  obliged  to  present  them  to  their 
mothers  or  to  their  wives  1 

HlPPOLYTE. 

And  Madame  de  Santis  is  the  friend  of  such  a  woman  ? 

Oliver. 
To  what  other  society  could  she  gain  admission  ? 

HlPPOLYTE. 

True,  true  !     But  you  wrote  to  me  that  you  had  a  favor 
to  ask ;  how  can  I  serve  you  ? 

Oliver.  • 

In  order  that  we  may  talk  at  our  leisure,  let  me  first  at- 
tend to  a  little  piece  of  business.  \^Bings  the  BelL^ 

HlPPOLYTE. 

Take  your  own  time ;  I  can  wait. 

Enter  Servant. 


24  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Oliver. 
[  To  Servanf]     Take  this  letter  to  the  Count  de  Lornan  ; 
in  case  he  is  ont,  hand  it  to  the  Coantess. 

\^Exit  Hervant.'] 

HiPPOLTTE. 

It  must  be  a  strange  letter  that  serves  equally  for  the  hus- 
band or  the  wife ! 

Oliver. 

That  letter  is  intended  only  for  the  eye  of  the  wife ;  but 
that  she  may  be  in  no  wise  compromised,  I  address  it  to 
the  husband. 

lIll'POLYTE. 

But  suppose  it  should  be  handed  to  the  husband  ? 

Oliver. 
The  husband  is  in  the  country.  But  perhaps  you  would 
like  to  hear  the  story :  I  will  tell  it  to  you,  in  order  that  you 
may  see  how  little  the  husband  has  to  fear  from  his  wife, 
and  how  little  the  wife  has  to  fear  from  me  I  Last  autumn 
I  was  introduced  to  the  Countess  de  Lornan,  who  passed 
the  month  of  October  at  the  country-seat  of  the  mother  of 
de  Maucroix,  of  whom  I  shall  presently  speak.  She  was  a 
blonde ;  stylish,  poetical,  sentimental,  and  virtuous !  Autumn 
is  a  dangerous  season;  her  husband  was  absent — you  know 
the  old  story !  I  made  love  to  the  wife,  and  believed  myself 
really  attached  to  her.  We  returned  to  Paris;  she  pre- 
sented me  to  her  husband. 

HiPPOLYTK. 

Of  course  an  old  fool — 

Oliver. 
On  the  contrary,  a  most  charming  fellow.     We  imme- 
diately conceived  the  greatest  regard  for  each  other,  and  in 
a  fortnight  became  bosom  friends.     Meantime  I  ceased  to 
care  for  the  wife.     Then  this  woman,  who  had  never  in- 


.  ACT  I.— SCENE  T.  25 

dnlged  me  in  the  slightest  liberty,  and  who,  between  our- 
selves, is  no  more  fitted  for  intrigue  than — 

\^He  is  puzzled  for  a  word.'] 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Never  mind,  some  other  time  you  will  find  the  comparison. 

Oliver. 
This  woman's  self-love  received  a  wound ;  she  fancied  I 
had  amused  myself  at  her  expense ;  in  short,  yesterday  she 
wrote  to  me  that  her  husband  had  left  the  city  for  several 
days,  that  she  desired  an  explanation  at  my  hands,  and 
would  expect  me  at  two  o'clock  to-day.  I  burned  her  let- 
ter; and,  instead  of  keeping  this  useless  and  embarrassing 
appointment,  I  wrote  her  the  truth,  that  I  am  desirous  of  re- 
taining her  friendship,  but  that  I  do  not  love  her  sufficiently, 
or  rather  that  I  love  her  too  deeply,  to  endeavor  to  lead  her 
from  the  paths  of  virtue.  She  will  be  provoked  with  me  at 
first,  but  she  will  at  least  be  saved ;  and  to  save  a  woman's 
honor — 

HiPrOLYTE. 

You  have  done  a  noble  action,  my  friend  1 

Olia'er. 
It  may  be  that  I  have  seen  too  much  of  life ;  it  may  be 
that  I  am  an  honest  man ;  but  I  have  resolved  no  longer  to 
be  guilty  of  those  acts  of  infamy  for  which  love  is  so  often 
the  pretext  and  excuse.  To  visit  a  man's  house,  press  his 
hand,  call  him  friend,  and  dishonor  his  wife — to  me  it  seems 
repugnant,  shameful,  disgraceful ! 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Besides,  it  is  so  commonplace  and  so  very  hackneyed; 
even  in  romances  and  comedies,  the  lover  is  always  hand- 
some, witty,  and  beloved,  the  husband  as  certainly  ugly, 
stupid,  and  detestable !     But  despite  any  personal  advan- 

3 


26  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

tages  he  may  possess,  what  a  figure  does  the  lover  of  a 
married  woman  present  in  her  husband's  presence !  Always 
awkward,  ill  at  ease,  humiliated ! 

Oliver. 
And  the  woman  ;  how  soon  does  she  fall  in  the  estimation 
of  the  man  who  has  sworn  to  love  her  eternally !  In  place 
of  the  divine  creature,  resplendent  with  the  charm  of  novelty, 
whom  he  saw  surrounded,  like  a  queen,  with  flatterers  and 
courtiers;  instead  of  a  painting  of  Raphael,  in  a  golden 
frame,  there  remains  only  a  veUed  shadow,  restless,  tremb- 
ling, consumed  with  remorse,  pursued  by  terror,  dressed  in 
black  to  avoid  recognition,  descending  from  a  crazy  and 
compromising  hackney-coach ; — only  a  miserable  wood-en- 
graving which  he  hangs  upon  the  walls  of  his  memory, 
between  the  "Remembrances  and  Regrets  of  Monsieur 
Dubufe  1" 

HiPPOLTTE. 

You  are  eloquent ;  but  since  you  have  been  talking,  I 
have  wondered  why  you  have  thus  played  the  Joseph. 
Don't  consider  me  malicious,  when  I  ask  if  you  are  not  *in 
love  with  some  one  else,  and  whether  I  know  the  lady  ? 

OUVKR. 

To  be  frank,  I  am  in  love ;  but  the  lady  had  left  for  a 
watering-place  before  your  return  to  Paris.  Her  name  I 
cannot  give  yon,  because  she  is  a  lady  of  position,  and — 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Come,  come,  Oliver !     [^Smiling.'] 

Oliver. 

Well,  at  least  she  says  so ;  at  any  rate  she  is  free,  a  widbw, 

not  thirty,  dresses  with  exquisite  taste,  is  full  of  wit,  and 

knows  how  to  keep  up  appearances.     There  is  no  danger  in 

the  present,  no  regrets  in  the  future,  for  she  is  one  of  those 


ACT  L— SCENE  I.  27 

who  foresee  all  the  eventualities  of  a  liaison,  and  who  smil- 
ingly condaets  her  conventional  love  to  the  very  last  post 
where  the  horses  are  to  be  changed.  I  entered  into  this 
liaison  much  for  the  same  reason  that  a  traveller,  who  has 
plenty  of  leisure,  journeys  by  carriage  instead  of  by  rail- 
way :  it  is  pleasanter  to  begin  with,  and  then  he  can  stop 
when  he  pleases  I 

HiPPOLTTE. 

And  how  long  has  this  been  going  on  ? 

Oliveb. 
Some  six  months. 

HiPPOLYTE. 

How.  long  is  it  to  continue  ? 

Oliver. 
As  long  as  the  lady  desires.     I  shall  never  marry  I 

Enter  Servant. 

Servant. 
A  lady,  returned  from  a  journey,  wishes  to  see  Monsieur. 

Oltvee. 
Ask  her  in.  [_Exit  Servant.'] 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Is  this  the  lady  ? 

Oliver. 
It  is. 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Then  I  will  leave  you. 

Oliver. 
But  as  regards  Maucroix ;  we  have  talked  of  everything 
but  business — 

HiPPOLYTE. 

That's  true ;  what  fools  we  are  I 

Oliver. 
Pray  use  the  term  singular  ! 


28  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Willingly ;  what  a  fool  you  are  I 

Olivkk. 
You  are  always  ready  with  a  reply  1  But  let  me  explain 
to  you  this  affair.  Monsieur  de  Maucroix  had  a  dispute 
with  de  Latour,  over  cards,  at  Madame  de  Vernieres,  the  old 
lady  whom  you  saw  here.  This  Monsieur  de  Latour's  friend 
is  to  call  at  three ;  I  may  require  your  aid  in  the  settlement 
of  the  difficulty ;  if  so,  where  shall  I  find  you  ? 

HiPPOLYTK. 

At  home  until  six,  from  six  to  eight  I  shall  be  at  dinner 
at  the  Cafe  Anglais ;  will  you  join  me  ? 

Oliver. 
Yes ;  stop  for  me  on  your  way  there.     [Exit  Hippoltte.] 

[^Oliver  opens  the  door  at  the  right  as  Hippolyte  closes  the 
door  at  the  ie/i.J 

Enter  Susan. 

OUVER. 


SUSAK. 

Oliver. 


Is  it  indeed  you  ? 
Yes. 

I  fancied  you  dead  I 

Susan. 
Dead  ?    I  was  never  better  I 

Oliver. 
When  did  you  return  from  Baden  ? 

SCSAX. 

A  week  since. 

Oliver. 
A  week ! 


ACT  I.— SCENE  I.                                  2£ 

Susan. 

Yes. 

OUVEB. 

And  I  have  not  seen  you  until  now  I     Has  anything  oc- 

curred ? 

Susan. 

Perhaps  I    Are  you 

as  sensible  and  witty  as  ever  ? 

Oliver. 

More  than  ever  1 

Susan. 

Since  when  ? 

Oliver. 

Since  you  entered. 

Susan. 
That  is  almost  a  compliment.     Well,  I  am  rejoiced  to 
learn  that  you  are  still  yourself. 

Oliver. 
Why? 

Susan. 
Because,  in  returning  from  Baden,  one  is  glad  to  find  a 
rational  person  to  talk  with. 

Oliver. 
Apparently  you  have  had  no  very  great  inclination  to 
converse,  at  least  with  me;  since,  although  you  returned  a 
week  ago,  I  have  not  seen  you  before. 

Susan. 
I  have  passed  that  whole  week  in  the  country,  whence  to- 
day, for  the  first  time,  I  have  returned  to  Paris.     No  one 
knows  of  my  arrival.     But  you  say  that  you  are  as  rational 
and  as  witty  as  ever  ? 

Oliver. 
Why,  yes !    What  are  you  trying  to  arrive  at  ? 
3* 


30  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Susan. 
Oh,  good  heavens !     Only  a  simple  answer  to  a  simple 
qaestion.     Will  you  marry  me  ? 

0  LITER. 

You? 

Susan. 
Don't  express  too  much  astonishment ;  it  would  hardly  be 
polite. 

Oliver. 
Marry  you?    What  an  idea  1 

SCSAN. 

You  will  not  ?  Well,  let  us  talk  no  more  of  it.  Now,  my 
dear  Oliver,  it  only  remains  for  me  to  tell  you  we  shall  never 
meet  again  1     I  am  going  to  leave  Paris. 

OLrVBR. 

Shall  you  be  absent  long  ? 

Susan. 
A  long  time. 

Oliver. 
And  you  are  going — 

Susan. 
Yery  far  away  I    You  seem  surprised,  yet  all  this  is  very 
natural  and  very  simple ;  people  travel  every  day ;  and  it  is 
for  the  benefit  of  these  very  people  that  railways  and  steam- 
ers have  been  invented. 

Oliver. 
That's  true.    But  what  is  to  become  of  me  ? 

Susan. 
Of  you? 

Oliver. 
Yes  I 

Susan. 
You  ?    You  will  remain  in  Paris. 


ACT  I.— SCENE  I.  31 

Oliver. 
Ah! 

Susan. 

Unless  you  wish  to  travel  also.     You  are  quite  free  ? 

Olitek. 
With  you  ? 

SUSAX. 

Oh,  no  1 

Oliver. 
Then  all  is  at  an  end  between  us  ? 

SUSAW. 

All  what? 

Oliver. 
Then  we  no  longer  love  each  other  ? 

Susan. 
Did  we  ever  love  each  other  ? 

Oliver. 

I  thought  so  I 

Susan. 

And  I  have  done  my  best  to  believe  so.  Yes,  I  have 
passed  my  life  in  striving  to  love,  but  until  now  I  have  found 
it  impossible.  You  must  know  that  I  went  to  Baden  more 
to  reflect  as  a  sensible  woman  should,  than  to  amuse  myself 
as  an  idle  one  does.  Absence  tests  one's  true  feelings.  I 
fancied  that  perhaps  you  were,  after  all,  dearer  to  me  than 
I  had  imagined.     I  left  Paris  to  see  if  I  could  exist  without 

you — 

Oliver. 
Well!  well!— 

Susan. 
Well,  I  did  manage  to  exist;  you  did  not  follow  me! 
Your  letters  were  not  very  interesting ;  to  make  a  long  story 
short,  in  a  fortnight  you  became  an  object  of  perfect  indiffer- 
ence to  me  I 


THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Oliver. 
You  possess  one  virtue,  certainly :  frankness  1 

Susan. 
I  returned  a  week  ago,  and  it  was  my  first  intention  to 
avoid  yon,  and  depend  upon  chance  to  throw  us  together  for 
an  explanation ;  then  I  reflected  that  we  both  possessed  good 
sense,  and  it  was  better,  instead  of  avoiding  a  meeting,  to 
come  at  once  to  the  point,  so  here  I  am  I  Let  us  convert 
our  false  love  into  true  friendship.  [^Oliver  laugJis.^  Why 
do  you  laugh  ? 

OUVEB. 

Because  I  had  written  the  same  thing,  in  almost  the  same 
words,  only  an  hour  ago  I 

Susan. 
To  a  woman  ? 

OUVBB. 

Yes. 

Susan. 
To  the  beautiful  Charlotte  de  Lornan  ? 

Oliver. 
I  know  no  such  person — 

Susan, 
One  moment  1  During  the  last  few  weeks  of  my  sojourn 
in  Paris,  you  were  not  as  constantly  at  my  side  as  before.  I 
soon  divined  that  your  reasons  or  pretexts  for  absenting  your- 
self concealed  some  mystery.  I  was  convinced  that  a  wo- 
man was  concerned  in  it.  One  day,  when  you  left  me  hur- 
riedly, as  you  said  "to  join  a  party  of  your  male  friends,"  I 
followed  you ;  saw  you  enter  a  certain  house  ;  learned  from 
the  porter,  to  whom  I  gave  twenty  francs,  that  Madame  de 
Lornan  resided  there,  and  that  you  visited  her  daily.  It 
was  then  that  I  discovered  I  did  not  love  you,  for  although 
I  did  my  utmost  toward  feeling  jealous,  I  did  not  become  so 
in  the  least  1 


ACT  L— SCENE  I.  £3 

Oliver. 
How  does  it  happen  that  you  never  before  mentioned  Ma- 
dame de  Lornan  ? 

SCSAX. 

Had  I  mentioned  her,  my  pride  would  have  led  me  to  force 
you  to  elect  between  us,  and  as  she  was  a  novelty,  I  should 
have  been  sacrificed !  and  so  my  self-love  would  have  suf- 
fered.    Oh,  I  was  too  wise  for  that ! 

Oliver. 
You  are  right  about  my  visits;  but  I  solemnly  assure  you, 
Madame  de  Lornan  never  has  been,  and  never  can  be,  more 
than  my  friend. 

Susan. 
That  is  no  longer  my  business.    You  are  free  to  love  whom 
you  please.     All  I  ask  is  your  friendship. 

Oliver. 
How  can  that  benefit  you,  since  you  are  about  to  leave 
Paris  ?    But  why  do  you  go  ? 

Susan. 
I  have  my  reasons. 

Oliver, 
Will  you  not  confide  them  to  me  ? 

Susan. 
To  ask  for  confidence  in  exchange  for  friendship ;  that  is 
not  giving,  it  is  selling  friendship. 

Oliver, 
You  are  logic  personified !    But  until  your  departure — 

Susan. 
I  shall  remain  in  the  country !     I  know  that  country  life 
is  tedious  and  insipid  to  you,  consequently  I  will  not  invite 
you  to  accompany  me.     • 


84  THE  DEMI-MONDE, 

Oliver. 

Well,  well,  this  is  only  a  polite  manner  of  bidding  me  good- 
bye. My  part,  as  your  friend,  will  not  be  a  difficult  one  to 
play. 

Susan. 

More  so,  perhaps,  than  you  imagine ;  for  by  friendship  I 
do  not  mean  that  empty  and  conventional  term  used  by 
lovers  in  separating,  and  which  is  neither  more  nor  less  than 
the  last  farewell  of  mutual  indifference.  No ;  what  I  desire 
is  an  earnest,  sincere  friendship,  full  of  devotion,  protection, 
aye,  if  need  be,  of  discretion!  Perhaps  the  opportunity  will 
never  be  afforded  to  you  more  than  once  to  prove  the  sin- 
cerity of  this  friendship ;  but  that  will  be  all-sufficient.  Do 
you  promise  ? 

Olfver. 
I  do. 

Enter  Servant. 

[^Handing  a  card.']    Will  Monsieur  receive  Monsieur  de 

Nanjac  ? 

OUVER. 

I  will  be  with  him  presently.  \^Exit  Servant.'} 

SCSAK. 

Let  me  see  that  card  I 

Oliver. 
Here  it  is. 

Susan. 
Then  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  is  a  friend  of  yours  ? 

Oliver. 
No ;  I  never  saw  him.     He  is  the  second  of  Monsieur  de 
Latour,  who  has  a  disagreement  witl^pne  of  my  friends. 

Susan. 
How  strange  !  how  strange  !     • 


ACT  I.— SCENE  I.  35 

Oliver. 
What  is  strange  ?  * 

Susan. 
How  can  I  get  out  without  being  seen  ? 

Oliver.  , 
You  are  agitated  !     Do  you  then  know  this  Monsieur  de 
Nanjac  ? 

Susan. 
He  was  introduced  to  me  at  Baden.     I  have  spoken  with 
him  once  or  twice. 

Oliver. 
Ah !  light  begins  to  dawn  upon  me.     Is  this  Monsieur 
de  Nanjac — 

Susan. 
You  are  dreaming ! 

Oliver. 
Aha! 

Susan. 
Well,  since  you  seem  desirous  that  Monsieur  de  Nanjac 
should  see  me  here,  let  him  enter  ! 

Oliver. 
Oh,  by  no  means  I 

Susan. 
I  insist ;  it  is  better  after  all  I 

Oliver. 
I  am  in  the  dark  again. 

^Servant  announces  Monsieur  Raymond  de  Nanjac] 

Enter  Raymond. 

Oliver. 
\^ Advancing.']     Pardon  me,  sir,   for  having  kept  you 
waiting. 

Eaymond. 
[Bows,  then  looks  at  Susan  urith  astonishment  and  emotion.'] 


36  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

SCSAN. 

iJo  you  not  recognize  me,  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  ? 

Raymond. 
I  fancied  it  was  you,  Madam,  but  was  not  sure. 

Susan. 
When  did  you  return  from  Baden  ? 

Raymond. 
Two  days  since ;  I  had  intended  to  have  made  you  my 
first  visit  this  day,  but  have  been  prevented  by  important 
business. 

Susan. 
I  shall  be  most  happy  to  see  you,  sir,  whenever  you  feci 
disposed  to  call  on  me.    Adieu,  my  dear  Oliver;  don't  forget 
your  promise.  [^Jiows,  and  exit.'] 

Oliver. 
I  am  at  your  service,  sir  1 

[^Motions  to  Raymond  to  he  seeded.] 

Raymond. 
\^SiUing.']     This  matter  is  very  simple,  sir:  Monsieur  de 
Latour,  one  of  my  friends — 

Oliver. 
Pardon  me,  sir ;  is  Monsieur  de  Latour  a  friend  of  yours  ? 

Raymond. 
He  is ;  why  this  question  ? 

Oliver. 
Because,  sometimes, — ^you  are  a  military  man,  sir  ? 

Raymond. 
I  am,  and  have  been  these  ten  years. 

Oliver. 
You  military  men,  I  believe,  consider  yourselves  bound 


ACT  I.— SCENE  I.  37 

never  to  refuse  becoming  the  seconds,  even  of  men  whom 
you  scarcely  know  ? 

Raymond. 
True,  sir,  we  rarely  refuse  this  service ;   but  I  am  ac- 
quainted with  Monsieur  de  Latour ;  I  take  him  by  the  hand 
and  call  him  friend.     Does  he  not  merit  this  title  ?     Is  that 
what  you  mean  to  convey  ? 

Oliver. 
By  no  means,  sir ;  go  on ! 

Raymond. 
"Well,  Monsieur  de  Latour  passed  night  before  last  at  the 
Countess  de  Veruieres ;  I  was  with  him ;  he  played  lansque- 
net with  a  Monsieur  George  de  Maucroix — 

Oliver. 

One  of  my  friends. 

Raymond. 

All  proceeded  pleasantly  enough,  when  my  friend,  who 
had  been  a  heavy  loser  during  the  evening,  being  out  of 
money,  offered  his  note  as  a  stake,  whereupon  M.  de  Mau- 
croix threw  up  his  cards.  M.  de  Latour  considered  his 
honor  and  credit  impeached  by  such  a  proceeding,  and  de- 
manded an  explanation  from  M.  de  Maucroix,  who  replied 
that  a  lady's  drawing-room  was  not  the  proper  place  for  the 
settlement  of  a  difficulty.  He  gave  your  name  and  address, 
and  M.  de  Latour  desired  me  to  call  on  you  and  demand 
your  friend's  meaning. 

Oliver. 

Everything  may  easily  be  explained,  and  I  fancy  all  that 
will  result  from  this  difference  is  that  I  shall  have  had  the 
pleasure  of  making  your  acquaintance.  George  had  no 
desire  to  insult  M.  de  Latour;  he  passed,  as  every 
player  of  the  game  has  the  right  to  do,  when  he  does  not 
consider  his  cards  strong  enough  to  risk  them  against  his 
adversary's. 

4 


88    .  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Baymokd. 
M.  (le  Maucroix,  I  am  convinced,  would  have  played  his 
cards,  had  M.  de  Latoor's  money  been  upon  the  table. 

Oliver. 
We  have  no  right  to  indulge  in  suppositions,  sir ;  we  can 
only  look  at  the  facts.  I  have  just  had  the  honor  of  repeat- 
ing to  you  what  M.  de  Maucroix  in  all  sincerity  told  me ; 
namely,  that  he  did  then  only  what  he  had  frequently  done 
before,  what  every  one  in  fact  does ;  and  had  I  been  in  M. 
de  Latour's  place,  I  should  never  have  noticed  the  incident. 

Raymond. 
Sir,  among  men  of  the  world,  this  may  be  overlooked ; 
but  we  military  men^ 

OUVER. 

Pardon  me,  sir ;  but  I  am  not  aware  that  M.  de  Latour  is 
a  military  man  ? 

Batmond. 
But  I  am  one  1 

Oliver. 
Allow  me  to  remind  you,  sir,  that  this  affair  is  not  between 
yourself  and  me,  but  between  Messrs.  Latour  and  Maucroix ; 
who  are  neither  of  them  military  men. 

Raymond. 
From  the  moment  M.  de  Latour  chose  me  to  represent 
him,  I  have  treated  the  matter  as  if  it  were  a  personal  affair. 

Oliver. 

Permit  me,  then,  to  tell  you,  sir,  that  you  err  in  so  doing ; 
seconds  should,  I  admit,  be  as  jealous  of  their  principal's 
honor  as  of  their  own ;  but  they  should  permit  a  spirit  of 
conciliation,  or  at  least  of  impartiality,  to  pervade  their  pro- 
ceedings. Believe  mc,  sir,  there  are  not  two  kinds  of  honor, 
one  for  the  uniform  you  wear,  the  other  for  a  civilian's  dress ; 


ACT  I.— SCENE  I.  39 

the  heart  is  the  same,  whether  it  beats  beneath  the  one  or 
the  other !  But  it  seems  to  me  that  human  life  is  of  suffi- 
cient consequence  to  be  seriously  discussed,  and  that  we,  as 
seconds,  should  only  permit  our  friends  to  fire  at  each  other 
in  cold  blood  when  there  is  no  possible  chance  of  otherwise 
settling  a  difficulty.  If  you  wish,  sir,  we  will  appoint  an- 
other meeting,  for,  to  speak  frankly,  you  appear  out  of 
humor  to-day,  which  may  seriously  affect  the  interests  of 
our  principals.  In  fact,  though  I  have  now,  for  the  first 
time,  the  honor  of  meeting  you,  we  have  been  talking  more 
like  two  adversaries  having  need  of  seconds,  than  seconds 
charged  with  the  conciliation  of  two  adversaries. 

Eaymond. 
You  are  right,  sir ;  it  was  a  personal  feeling  which  made 
me  speak  as  I  have !     Pardon  me,  and  as  a  proof  of  my 
regret  I  will  open  my  heart  to  you. 

I  pray  you,  speak  ! 

Eaymond. 
I  will  deal  frankly  with  you,  and  may  I  ask  equal  frank- 
ness at  your  hands  ?  [Oliver  bows.'}  We  are  both  men  of 
position,  of  nearly  the  same  age,  belonging  to  the  same  grade 
of  society,  and  certainly,  had  I  not  been  living  for  the  last 
ten  years,  like  a  bear,  in  Africa,  we  should  long  since  have 
been  friends — warm,  bosom-friends ;  do  you  not  think  so  ? 

OovfiR. 
I  begin,  indeed,  to  believe  so. 

Raymond. 
I  should  have  spoken  to  you  at  first,  as  I  am  now  speak- 
ing, instead  of  letting  my  ill-humor  get  the  better  of  me,  and 
thus  have  drawn  upon  myself  the  little  lecture  you  have  ad- 
ministered with  so  much  tact.     Had  I  come  in  contact  with 


40  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

a  man  of  my  own  disposition,  instead  of  a  man  of  sense,  like 
yourself,  we  would,  by  this  time,  have  been  rcatly  to  cut  one 
another's  throats.  Will  you  permit  me  to  ask  you  a  few 
questions,  as  if  I  were  a  friend  of  ten  years'  standing,  upon 
my  solemn  assurance  that  your  replies  shall  die  with  me  ? 

Oliteb. 
Certainly. 

Bathoxd. 
Thanks,  thanks ;  this  conyersation  will  decide  my  destiny  I 

Oliver. 
I  am  listening  I 

Raymond. 
What  is  the  name  of  the  lady  I  met  here  ? 

Oliver. 
The  Baronness  D'Ange. 

Raymond. 
A  lady  of  position  ? 


Yes. 

A  widow? 

Yes,  a  widow. 


Oliver. 
Raymond. 

OUVER. 


Raymond. 
What  relationship — teU  me,  I  conjure  you,  what  relation- 
ship exists  between  her  and  yourself? 

Oliver. 
That  of  friendship. 

Raymond. 
You  are  only  her  friend  ? 

Oliver. 
I  am  only  her  friend  1 

Raymond. 
Thanks,  sir ;  but  permit  me  to  make  still  another  inquiry. 


ACT  I.— SCENE  I.  41 

Why  was  the  Baronness  D'Ange  at  your  house  ?     The  simple 
title  of  friend — 

Oliver. 
Does  not  authorize  a  lady  of  position  to  call  upon  a  gentle- 
man !  Why  not  ?  And  to  prove  to  you  that  Madame 
D'Ange  had  no  evil  motive,  and  consequently  no  desire  for 
concealment,  she  went  out  by  this  door  after  exchanging  a 
few  words  with  you,  instead  of  by  that,  by  which  she  might 
have  escaped  unseen  1 

Raymond, 
True,  true !  I  needed  this  explanation.  But  not  to  be 
behind  you  in  frankness  !  I  am  an  oflBcer  from  Africa,  where 
I  was  seriously  wounded  some  months  ago,  and  have  since 
been  absent  on  leave.  A  fortnight  since,  I  arrived  at  Ba- 
den, and  was  introduced  to  Madame  D'Ange,  who  made  a 
wonderful  impression  upon  me,  I  followed  her  to  Paris, 
and  am  madly  in  love  with  her,  but  she  has  given  me  no  en- 
couragement. She  is  young  and  beautiful ;  I  have  tortured 
myself  with  the  thought  that  she  may  love  another.  You 
will  now  comprehend  my  astonishment,  my  emotion,  in  sud- 
denly finding  myself  face  to  face  with  her  in  your  house ;  but 
my  suspicions,  my  natural  fears,  my  ill-humor — all  are  dissi- 
pated by  your  reasonable  language,  and  by  the  explanations 
you  have  so  frankly  and  courteously  given.  I  hope,  sir,  that 
we  may  often  meet ;  and  let  me  beg  that  from  this  moment 
you  will  number  me  among  your  friends,  and  as  such  com- 
mand me.  As  to  the  difficulty  which  brought  us  together, 
I  presume  we  may  consider  that  it  is  arranged  ? 

Oliver. 
Undoubtedly. 

Raymond. 
We  will  draw  up  a  little  memorandum  of  our  conversa- 
tion, submit  it  to  our  friends,  and  all  will  be  over. 

4* 


42  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Outer. 
It  is  well.     To-morrow  I  will  have  the  honor  of  calling 
upon  you  at  the  same  hour,  if  it  suits  you;  I  have  your  ad- 
dress upon  your  card,  I  believe. 

Raymond. 
Until  to-morrow.  [  They  shake  hands."] 

Enter  Hippolytb. 

HlPPOLYTE. 

[Opening  the  door."]     May  I  come  in  ? 

[Raymond  and  Hippoltte  bow;  Raymond  exit.'] 

Oliver. 
Poor  fellow  I 

HiPPOLYTK. 

What  has  happened  ? 

Oliver. 
A  thousand  things,  without  counting  those  which  I  see  in 
perspective. 

HiPPOLYTK. 

And  the  duel  ? 

Oliver. 
Amicably  arranged. 

HlPPOLYTE. 

So  much  the  better  1    And  your  fair  friend  from  the  wa- 
tering-place ? 

Outer. 
My  calculations  are  all  unsettled  in  that  quarter. 

HlPPOLYTE. 

Indeed !    Well,  I  too  have  something  to  relate. 

OUVER. 

What,  pray  ? 

HlPPOLYTE. 

I  have  just  received  an  invitation  couched  in  these  terms : 
"Madame  de  Vemi^res  solicits  the  honor  of  Monsieur  Hip- 


ACT  I.— SCENE  I.  43 

polyte  Richond's  company  on  "Wednesday  evening  next," 
There  follows  the  address,  and  at  the  bottom  of  the  page 
the  words,  "With  Madame  de  Santis's  compliments."  Ma- 
dame de  Santis  doubtless  wishes  to  make  some  inquiries  con- 
cerning her  husband. 

Oliver. 
What  answer  have  you  sent  ? 

HiPPOLTTE. 

As  yet  none.     But  I  shall  go. 

OUVEB. 

I  will  accompany  you. 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Are  you  also  invited  ? 

Oliver. 
One  is  always  invited  there ;  besides,  there  is  a  little  in- 
trigue in  progress,  on  which  I  wish  to  keep  an  eye.     But 
come,  are  you  not  hungry  ? 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Yes. 

Oliver. 
Then  let  us  go  to  dinner. 


END   OP   FraST   ACT. 


ACT    SECOND. 

Drawing- Room  at  Madame  de  Vernieres. 

COUNTESS  AND  SERVANT. 

Countess,  [To  Servant.l 
Let  the  candles  be  lighted  in  the  boudoir,  and  in  my  cham- 
ber.    The  Baronness  does  not  come. 

Servant,  [About  to  go  out,  announces] 
The  Baronness  D'Ange.  [Exit.'] 

SCSAX. 

I  have  not  come  as  early  as  I  could  have  wished,  my  dear 
Countess,  but  you  know  one  cannot  be  punctual  to  a  moment 
when  residing  in  the  country.  I  dressed  at  my  house  in 
Paris,  but  everything  is  in  disorder,  after  an  absence  of  three 
months ;  however,  to-morrow  all  will  be  right  again. 

Countess. 
You  received  my  note  ?    Tell  me,  you  were  not  offended 
by  the  boldness  of  my  request  ? 

Susan. 
There  should  be  no  ceremony  among  friends.     Here  is  the 
amount  you  desired.     [^Handing  money.'}     If  that  be  not 
sufficient — 

Countess. 
Thank  you,  a  thousand  times ;  that  is  all  I  require :  I 
needed  it  this  very  day. 

Susan. 
Then  why  did  you  not  ask  me  for  it  yesterday  ? 
44 


ACT  IL— SCENE  I.  45 

CorxTESs. 
Unta  the  last  moment,  I  hoped  to  procure  it  from  the 
agent  of  Madame  de  Santis,  who  had  promised  it  to  me,  and 
it  was  only  at  mid-day  that  he  informed  me  he  could  not  give 
it.  Yalentina  herself  is  much  pressed ;  so  I  could  not  apply 
to  her.  Believe  me,  I  should  not  have  troubled  you,  but 
there  is  a  writ  out  against  me,  and  I  was  anxious  to  avoid 
the  scandal  of  having  my  furniture  seized  to-morrow. 

Susan. 
You  had  better,  then,  arrange  matters  this  evening. 

Countess. 
I  shall  send  my  maid  to  settle  the  claim  immediately. 

Susan. 
One  moment ;  never  admit  domestics  to  your  confidence. 

Countess. 
But  I  dread  to  leave  the  affair  until  to-morrow ;  my  credit- 
ors may  make  a  seizure  in  the  morning. 

Susan. 
Then  why  not  go  yoursdf  and  pay  the  amount  ? 

Countess. 
But  my  guests  ? 

Susan. 
I  will  do  the  honors  until  your  return.     You  will  not  be 
absent  long !    Whom  do  you  expect  ? 

Countess. 
Valentina,  a  Monsieur  Richond,  who  is  a  friend  of  her 
husband,  and  whom  she  desired  me  to  invite,  and  Monsieur 
de  Xanjac — ah,  if  I  could  only  arrange  his  marriage  with 
my  niece !  I  shall  depend  upon  you  to  assist  me  in  that, 
for  it  would  save  me !  Then  there  is  Marcella,  yourself,  the 
Marquis  de  Thonnerins,  and,  possibly,  since  their  diflSculty 
is  settled,  Messrs.  Maucroix  and  Latour  may  also  come. 


46  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

SCSAN. 

And  Monsieur  de  Jalin,  you  have  not  invited  him  ? 

Countess. 
Oh,  he  never  comes  1 

SCSAN. 

Did  the  Marquis  de  Thonnerins  promise  to  be  here  ? 

Countess. 
Of  course :  since  he  sent  me  no  excuse. 

Susan. 
"Well,  now  attend  to  your  business;  I  will  await  your  re- 
turn. 

Countess. 
I  shall  not  be  gone  twenty  minutes.     Can  you  amuse 
yourself  alone  ?  for  I  would  like  to  have  Marcella  accom- 
pany me. 

Susan. 
Take  her,  by  all  means. 

[^Servant  announces  Monsieub  de  Thonnerins.] 

Susan-. 
I  will  entertain  the  Marquis  until  your  return. 

Countess. 
Do ;  I'll  go  immediately.     I  will  not  even  stop  to  speak 
with  him,  as  he  might  detain  me.     Endeavor  to  interest  him 
in  my  plan  of  marrying  Marcella  to  Monsieur  de  Nanjac. 

[Exit.'] 
Enter  MARQUia 

Susan. 
As  the  Countess  had  some  business  to  attend  to,  she 
charged  me  to  make  you  welcome.     She  will  return  shortly. 

Marquis. 
Then  I  shall  probably  not  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  her. 


ACT  II.— SCENE  I.  *47 

Susan. 
Shall  you  not  pass  the  evening  with  us  ? 

Marquis. 
No,  my  time  is  not  my  own.     My  daughter  has  returned 
from  the  country,  and  1  promised  to  accompany  her  to  her 
aunt's  this  evening.     I  should  not  have  come  here,  but  for 
your  note. 

Susan. 
I  wished  to  speak  with  you,  and  did  not  like  putting  you 
to  the  trouble  of  going  into  the  country  to  see  me.     Is  Ma- 
demoiselle de  Thonnerins  well  ? 

Marquis. 
She  is. 

SCSAN. 

Will  you  never  permit  me  to  see  her  ?  I  should  really  like 
to  do  so,  even  at  a  distance,  since  you  will  not  make  us  ac- 
quainted. 

Marquis. 

You  have  made  this  request  before,  my  dear  Susan,  and  I 
have  given  you  my  reason  for  declining ;  so  why  revert  to 
the  subject  again  ?  You  wrote  that  you  had  something  to 
say  to  me ;  speak,  I  am  all  attention. 

Susan. 
You  once  declared  that  I  should  ever  find  you  ready  to 
serve  me  ? 

Marquis. 
I  repeat  it. 

Susan. 
But  in  so  frigid  a  tone  to-day,  that  I  fear  it  would  scarcely 
be  prudent  to  rely  upon  your  promise. 

Marquis. 
I  believe  I  have  kept  every  promise  that  I  ever  made  to 
you.     I  am  speaking  to  you  now  in  a  manner  befitting  my 
age,  for  the  moment  has  arrived  when  I  can  no  longer  for- 


48  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

get  that  I  am  neither  twenty  nor  even  forty  years  old.  It 
is  only  under  pain  of  ridicule  that  I  can  assume  to  be  other 
than  what  I  really  am — an  old  man,  who  would  be  glad  to 
be  of  service  to  one  whom  he  has,  no  doubt,  often  wearied 
and  annoyed,  but  who  has  always  had  the  generosity  not  to 
make  him  feel  it. 

SCSAN. 

Then  I  will  reply  to  you  in  the  same  spirit.  To  you,  Mar- 
quis, I  owe  everything  1  You  may  be  able,  as  benefactor,  to 
forget  this;  but  as  the  beneficiary,  I  never  can.  You  have 
entertained  for  me,  perhaps,  only  a  passing  fancy,  though  I 
once  thought  you  honored  me  with  something  more  1 

Marqcis. 

Ah,  Susan ! 

Susan. 

I  was  nothing — ^nobody ;  you  gave  me  position  !  My  sta- 
tion in  the  world  would  indeed  be  a  sorry  one  for  a  woman 
born  to  the  higher  walks  of  life ;  but  for  one  bom  at  the 
very  foot  of  the  social  ladder,  it  was  a  lofty  position  to  which 
you  raised  me  !  You  will  readily  understand  that  having 
once  attained,  through  you,  that  eminence  which  I  had  never 
even  dared  to  contemplate  or  hope  for,  there  grew  from  it, 
as  a  natural  consequence,  ambition.  From  the  point  where 
I  now  stand,  I  must  either  descend  lower  than  ever  before, 
or  I  must  ascend  to  the  highest  round.  Marriage  alone  can 
give  me  the  position  I  desire. 

Marquis. 
Marriage  1 

ScSAN. 

Yes ! 

Marquis. 
You  are  indeed  ambitious ! 

Susan. 
Do  not  discourage  me !    I  have  often  said  to  myself  pre- 


ACT  II.— SCENE  I.  49 

cisely  what  you  would  now  tell  me,  that  my  ambition  is  hope- 
less ;  for  where  could  I  find  a  man  confiding  enough  to  trust 
me,  noble  enough  to  give  me  position,  brave  enough  to  de- 
fend me,  sufficiently  attached  to  consecrate  to  me  his  life, 
sufficiently  young,  distinguished,  and  handsome  to  believe 
himself  loved  and  for  me  to  love  him  ? 

Marquis. 
And  have  you  found  the  man  sufficiently  confiding,  noble, 
attached  ? 

Susan. 
Yes  I 

Marquis. 
And  young  enough  for  him  to  believe  himself  loved  ? 

SUSAX. 

Young  enough  for  me  to  love  him. 

Marquis. 
And  you  do  love  him  ? 

Susan. 
Yes  1    What  would  you  have  ?    We  are  not  perfect ! 

Marquis. 
And  he  will  marry  you? 

Susan. 
I  have  but  to  say  the  word,  and  he  will  lay  his  name  and 
his  fortune  at  my  feet. 

Marquis, 
Then  why  have  you  not  said  it  ? 

Susan. 
Because  I  wished  first  to  consult  you. 

Marquis. 
Well !     There  is  this  to  fear,  that  this  man,  so  seductive  in 
manner  and  appearance,  is  about  to  marry  you  on  specula- 

5 


50  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

tion ;  that,  ignorant  of  your  past  history,  and  believing  you 
rich,  he  is  ready  to  sell  his  name,  as  his  last  resource.  This 
often  happens  1 

Susan. 
But  he  has  not  been  in  France  for  these  ten  years ;  he 
knows  nothing  of  my  life;  if  he  knew  aught  against  my 
honor,  he  would  leave  me  on  the  instant.  He  has  an  income 
of  twenty  or  twenty-five  thousand  pounds,  and  has,  therefore, 
no  need  to  sell  himself     When  I  tell  you  his  name — 

Marquis. 
I  will  not — I  ought  not  to  know  it.  The  interest  which  I 
feel  in  you,  induces  me  to  hope  that  your  wishes  may  be  real- 
ized ;  but  I  cannot  be  made  party  to  this  scheme,  however 
honorable  your  motives  may  be ;  for  if,  by  chance,  you  should 
mention  a  name  that  I  recognize,  you  would  place  me  under 
the  disagreeable  necessity  of  either  tacitly  deceiving  an  hon- 
orable man,  or  of  betraying  you.     But  what  are  your  plans  ? 

Susan. 
I  have  resolved  to  leave  here  immediately :  it  is  the  most 
prudent  course ;  but  I  must  be  entirely  mistress  of  myself, 
and  able  to  quit  France,  Europe  itself  perhaps,  never  to  re- 
turn. In  the  eyes  of  my  husband,  this  marriage  must  have 
no  interested  motive.  I  must  have  a  fortune  nearly  equal  to 
his  own,  available  on  the  instant :  you  are  my  guardian,  you 
alone  know  what  my  fortune  really  is. 

Marquis. 
You  have  enjoyed,  I  believe,  an  income  of  fifteen  thou- 
sand francs. 

Susan. 
Yes. 

Marquis. 
This,  at  five  per  cent.,  represents  a  capital  of  three  hun- 
dred thousand  francs. 


ACT  II.— SCENE  I.  51 

SCSAN. 

And  this  capital  ? 

Marquis. 

You  hare  bnt  to  give  directions  to  my  notary,  since  he 
has  charge  of  your  finances,  and  he  will  place  the  necessary 
deeds  in  your  possession. 

SCSAX. 

My  dear  sir,  you  have  acted  in  a  princely  manner ;  I  shall 
be  indebted  to  you,  even  for  the  happiness  which  I  may  de- 
rive from  another. 

Marquis. 

A  sensible  woman  is  never  indebted  to  any  one. 

SUSAX. 

That  is  an  indirect  reproach ! 

Marquis  . 
It  is  a  final  settling  of  accounts.    J^Kisses  her  hand.']  Pray 
make  my  excuses  to  the  Countess.  l^Exit.] 

[Servant  announces  Monsieur  Raymond  de  Nanjac] 

Enter  Raymond. 
Raymond. 
I  have  just  left  your  house,  Madame.     I  had  hoped  to 
have  the  pleasure  of  escorting  you  here. 

SUSAX. 

I  received  a  note  from  the  Countess  de  Yemieres,  begging 
me  to  come  early,  as  she  had  a  favor  to  ask. 

Raymoxd. 
Then  you  were  conversing  with  the  Countess  when  I  en- 
tered ? 

Susan. 
No ;  with  the  Marquis  de  Thonnerins. 

Raymond. 
Has  he  not  a  sister  ? 


52  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Susan. 
He  has.     The  Duchess  of  Haubeney. 

Raymond. 
Herself  and  my  sister  are  very  intimate  friends,  and  since 
my  arrival  the  latter  has  been  most  anxious  to  make  us  ac- 
quainted ;  but  why  should  I  know  the  Duchess's  family  ? 

Susan. 
The  Marquis  has  a  charming  daughter. 

Raymond. 
What  is  that  to  me  ? 

Susan. 
She  will  have  a  fortune  of  four  or  five  millions. 

Raymond. 
That  matters  little,  since  I  could  never  wish  to  marry  her. 

Susan. 
Why  not? 

Raymond. 
How  could  I  wish  to  marry  Mademoiselle  Thonnerins,  or 
any  one,  except  yourself. 

Susan. 
What  folly  1  you  scarcely  know  me. 

Raymond. 

I  know  you  well  enough  to  love  you.  From  the  first  mo- 
ment we  met,  my  heart  became  yours ;  why,  I  know  not ; 
love  cannot  bear  the  torch  of  reason.  What  did  I  tell  yoa 
yesterday  ? 

Susan. 

Yesterday  you  talked  like  a  madman  I  You  told  me  you 
could  no  longer  remain  in  the  army,  and  begged  me  to  be- 
come your  wife.  You  have  had  a  whole  night  to  reflect  upon 
your  folly ;  for,  after  consideration,  you  must  be  willing  to  ac- 
knowledge it  to  be  nothing  less. 


ACT  II.— SCENE  I.  53 

Eaymond. 
On  the  contrary.     I  have  to-day  resigned  my  commission. 

Susan, 
Are  you  mad  !  You  should  not,  oh,  you  should  not  have 
done  this  1  Within  a  year,  nay,  even  in  a  month,  you  may 
regret  the  sacrifices  you  are  making  for  me  I  Oh,  Raymond, 
hear  me  !  I  speak  to  you  as  a  true  and  rational  friend.  Re- 
flect ;  I  am  older  than  you  are ;  I  am  twenty-eight,  and  a 
woman  of  that  age  is  older  than  a  man  of  thirty.  I  must 
have  had  more  experiences  than  you — 

Raymond. 

Susan,  this  is  trifling  !  When  ten  years  of  age,  I  lost  an 
idolized  mother,  and  however  young  the  child,  the  day  of  a 
mother's  death  adds  years,  long  years,  to  his  life.  Think  you 
that  camp  experience,  weary  days  passed  in  the  wilderness, 
or  in  solitude  on  the  sea-shore,  braving  death  every  hour, 
the  remembrance  of  dear  friends  stricken  in  battle  at  my 
side — think  you  these  have  not  matured  my  mind,  and  added 
years  (I  had  almost  said  cycles)  to  my  existence  ?  Look,  I 
am  already  gray  I  I  am  already  old !  Love  me,  Susan, 
love  me  1 

Susan. 

If  I  were  to  do  so,  you  would  continue  to  doubt  me  as  on 
the  day  we  met  at  M.  de  Jalin's,  where  I  went  only  to  hear 
of  you.  I  should  be  made  miserable  by  your  constant  sus- 
picion and  jealousy. 

Raymond. 

No  !  no  1  What  I  said  to  Oliver  was  a  consequence  of 
my  devotion.  Where  is  the  man  of  sincere  attachments 
who  could  allow  the  woman  he  loved  to  be  suspected,  even 
in  his  own  imagination  ?     Esteem  and  love  go  hand  in  hand. 

Susan. 
True,  true  1     And  I  can  well  comprehend  this  jealousy 
5* 


54  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

with  which  I  have  reproached  you.  How  happy  I  am  in 
the  thought  that  you  have  never  before  loved !  Do  you 
know,  were  I  your  wife,  I  should  wish  to  conceal  my  love 
and  happiness  from  all  eyes :  I  should  wish  to  separate  my- 
self from  the  world  and  forget  it,  since  it  is  full  of  younger 
and  more  beautiful  women  than  myself,  whom,  some  day,  you 
might  love.  Promise  me  that  we  shall  live  in  eternal  seclu- 
sion? 

Batmond. 
Oh,  Susan,  thus  do  I  love,  and  thus  would  I  be  beloved  by 
you !     Yes,  we  shall  be  all  the  world  to  each  other  I     We 
will  leave  here  to-morrow,  if  you  wish,  never  to  return  1 

Susan. 
But,  your  sister  1    Great  heavens  1  what  will  she  say  ? 

Ratmoxd. 
She  will  say,  if  you  love  this  woman  and  are  beloved  by 
her,  if  she  be  worthy  of  yon,  marry  her  and  be  happy  I 

Susan. 
But,  my  friend,  she  does  not  know  me;  she  thinks  me 
young  and  beautiful ;  she  imagines  me  surrounded  by  rela- 
tives who  will  become  her  friends ;  she  does  not  know  that  I 
am  alone  in  the  world,  and  that  our  marriage  will  separate 
you  from  her.  When  she  ascertains  that  we  are  to  leave  her, 
she  will  counsel  you  as  I  did.  You  love  her,  and  you  will 
end  by  following  her  advice. 

Raymond. 
She  will  accompany  us.     She  is  not  attached  to  Paris,  and 
would  be  quite  as  happy  elsewhere. 

Susan. 
Make  us  acquainted  first.     I  wish  to  please  her,  to  gain 
her  affection  and  esteem ;  I  desire  that  she  shall  love  me  as 


ACT  IT.— SCENE  I.  55 

a  sister,  and  wish  for  our  marriage,  instead  of  simply  ac- 
ceding to  it, 

Raymond. 
Dearest,  as  you  wish  1 

Susan. 
What  friends  have  you  to  consult  ? 

Raymond. 
None  1 

Susan. 
Not  Monsieur  de  Jalin  ? 

Raymond. 

Him  alone !     You  will  admit  that  he  has  a  noble  heart, 
and  merits  the  confidence  of  a  friend. 

Susan. 
Certainly  1  But  a  woman's  reputation  is  so  easily  sullied  I 
If  you  speak  publicly  of  our  marriage,  and  any  unforseen 
event  should  occur  to  prevent  its  consummation,  in  what  a 
false,  ridiculous  position  I  should  be  placed  1  If  ever  I 
should  cause  you  sorrow,  go  and  confide  it  to  Oliver;  but 
until  then  never  speak  of  our  attachment,  not  even  to  him. 
In  love,  the  greater  the  secresy  the  greater  the  happiness. 

Raymond. 
You  are  right,  always  right !  But  though  Oliver  has  a 
claim  on  my  confidence,  although  we  have  scarcely  been 
apart  for  an  hour  during  the  last  four  days,  still  he  has  not 
even  mentioned  your  name !  However,  I  will  say  nothing 
to  him  nor  to  my  sister.     Are  you  satisfied  ? 

Susan. 
I  am! 

Raymond. 
How  dearly  do  I  love  you  I 

Susan. 
Hark !    Some  one  comes. 

EnUer  Servant. 


66  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Servant. 
Messrs.  Oliver  de  Jalin  and  Hippolyte  Richond. 

Susan. 
Oliver !     What  does  he  here  ? 

Enter  Hippolyte  and  Oliver. 

Oliver. 
How  ?     The  Countess  not  at  home  ?    Is  this  the  way  she 
receives  her  friends  ? 

Susan. 
The  Countess  will  return  presently ;  business  of  import- 
ance demands  her  attention. 

Oliver. 
Well,  at  least  she  could  not  have  chosen  a  more  charming 
representative ;  and  since  you  are  doing  the  honors,  Baron- 
ness,  allow  me  to  present  my  friend,  M.  Hippolyte  Richond. 

Hippolyte. 
IBows."]    Madame  1 

Susan. 
[Bows.^     Sir  I 

Oliver. 
And  you,  my  dear  Raymond,  are  you  well  ? 

Ratmond. 
Never  better  I 

Susan. 
[  To  Oliver  and  Raymond.'\    What  a  pleasure  to  see  such 
intimacy  between  persons  who  have  known  each  other  but  a 
week! 

Oliver. 
There  is,  my  dear  Baronness,  a  mysterious  tie  between 
honest  men,  which  unites  them,  even  before  they  know  each 
other,  and  which,  on  the  very  day  of  their  meeting,  converts 
them  into  friends.  My  dear  Raymond,  allow  me  to  present 
to  you  one  of  my  best  friends,  since  I  have  two  now,  Mon- 


ACT  II  —SCENE  I.  57 

sieur  Hippolyte  Richond,  who  has  travelled  much  in  Africa; 
so  you  will  find  abundant  topics  for  conversation, 

Raymond. 
Ah  I  sir,  then  you  too  have  visited  that  fine,  though  much 
abused,  country  1  [  They  converse  apart.  ~\ 

Oliver. 
[To  Susan.]    I  thought  you  were  in  the  country? 

SUSAX. 

I  returned  from  there  this  evening. 

Oliver. 
What  is  there  new  ? 

Susan. 
Absolutely  nothing. 

Oliver. 
Ah  I  Then  I  can  give  you  some  news  ! 

Susan. 
Pray,  what  ? 

Oliver. 
Monsieur  de  Nanjac  loves  you. 

Susan. 
You  are  jesting ! 

Oliver. 
Did  he  not  himself  tell  you  so  ? 

Susan. 
No  I 

Oliver. 
That  is  strange ;  he  confessed  it  to  me  1    So  prepare  your- 
self for  a  declaration. 

Susan. 
You  did  well  to  warn  me. 

Oliver. 
Why? 


«;8  THE  DEMI-MONDE, 

Susan. 
Becaase  I  shall  soon  find  means  to  make  bim  understand 
that  he  is  wasting  his  time. 

Oliver. 
Then  you  do  not  love  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  7 

SCSAN. 

I  love  him  ?     What  an  idea  I 

Oltvke. 
Just  a  little  ? 

SCSAN. 

Not  at  all. 

Oliver. 
Then  I  have  grossly  deceived  myself  1    But  I  am  truly 
rejoiced  that  you  do  not  care  for  him. 

SCSAK. 

Wherefore  ? 

Oliver. 
I  will  tell  you  when  we  are  alone. 

SCSAN. 

You  had  better  hasten  to  inform  me,  for  you  know  I  am 
going  away. 

Oliver. 
You  are  not  gone  yet,  nor  do  I  intend  you  shall  go. 

Susan. 
Take  care  I    I  may  claim  Madame  de  Loman's  protection. 

Oliver. 
Madame  de  Loman  no  longer  even  thinks  of  me.     I  have 
called  three  times,  and  each  time  have  been  refused  admission 
to  her  house. 

ScSAN. 

Do  you  wish  mcTto  effect  a  reconciliation? 


ACT  IL— SCENE  I.  59 

Oliver. 
You? 

Susan. 
Yes! 

Oliver. 
Do  you  think  she  would  be  more  likely  to  admit  you  to 
her  presence  than  myself  ? 

Susan. 
Perhaps  !     I  always  manage  to  be  received  when  I  wish  1 
At  your  service.  [^She  bows  and  moves  away.'} 

Oliver  [aside.] 
"Was  that  intended  as  a  menace  ?    We  shall  see  I  we  shall 
see! 

Enter  Countess  and  Marcella. 

Countess. 
\^As  she  enters.']     I  owe  you  a  thousand  apologies,  gen- 
tlemen. 

Susan. 
[^Aside  to  Countess.']    "Well  ?    Well  ? 

Countess. 
All  is  arranged,  thank  heaven  ! 

Marcella. 
[  To  Susan.]     Are  you  well,  Madame  ? 

Susan. 
Quite ;  and  how  are  you,  my  dear  child  ? 

Marcella. 
Thank  you,  I  have  the  misfortune  of  always  being  well. 
It  is  so  tiresome  1     For  when  a  woman  is  always  in  good 
health,  no  one  pays  her  the  least  attention  1 

Countess. 
[To  HipPOLYTE,  whom  Oliver  has  meantime  presented.] 
You  are  very  kind  to  have  accepted  my  rather  informal 


60  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

invitation.  Madame  de  Santis  desired  to  speak  with  yoo, 
since  you  are  her  husband's  friend ;  and  as  her  house  is  not 
yet  in  order,  she  did  me  the  honor  of  inviting  you  here.  I 
feel  deep  interest  in  Valentina,  and  sincerely  hope  her  wishes 
may  be  realized. 

HiPPOLTTE. 

IBows.'] 

Marcella. 
Has  the  Marquis  de  Thonnerins  not  yet  come  ? 

Susan. 
He  begged  me  to  make  his  excuses.     He  was  able  to 
remain  for  only  a  few  moments,  as  his  sister  receives  to-night. 

Marcklla. 
How  much  I  wished  to  see  him  I 

Countess. 
A  propos,  Monsieur  de  Nanjac,  did  you  not  promise  to 
bring  your  sister  here  ? 

Raymond. 
Yes,  Madame ;  but  she  is  still  in  mourning,  and  is  further- 
more quite  indisposed.     As  soon  as  she  recovers,  I  shall 
have  the  honor  of  making  you  acquainted. 

Oliver. 
[Aside  to  JRaymond.']     Are  you  mad  ?  m- 

Bathond. 
Why?    What? 

Marcella. 
Monsieur  de  Nanjac ! 

Olivkr. 
[Aside  to  Raymond.'^     I  will  explain  my  meaning  by- 
and-bye. 

Raymond. 
[Xo  Marcella."]    Mademoiselle  I 

Marcella. 
Monsieur  Oliver,  lend  me  M.  de  Nanjac  for  a  moment ;  I 


ACT  II.— SCENE  I.  61 

will  return  him  to  you.     [  To  Raymond.']    I  have  a  word  to 
say  to  you ;  but  first  take  this  pin  out  of  my  bonnet. 

Raymond, 
This  lady  has  apparently  great  wit  and  fine  spirits. 

Oliver. 
Lady  ?     She  is  a  young  girl  1 

RAyMOND. 

One  would  not  think  so ;  she  talks  like  a  woman. 

Oliver. 
Say,  rather,  like  a  man  1 

Maecella. 
Do  you  know,  Monsieur  de  Nanjac,  that  there  is  a  con- 
spiracy against  you  ? 

Raymond. 
iCeally,  Mademoiselle  ? 

Marcella. 
Yes ;  they  wish  you  to  marry  me  I 

Raymond. 

But— 

Marcella. 

One  moment.  You  are  as  little  inclined  to  make  me  your 
wife  as  I  am  to  become  such.  You  love  one  who  is  a  thou- 
sand times  my  superior  !  I  saw  it  all ;  but  be  not  alarmed, 
I  will  never  speak  of  it  1  Now  that  you  have  nothing  to 
fear,  give  me  your  arm  and  come  with  me.  My  aunt  will 
think  us  courting,  and  that  will  please  her,  dear  soul !  But, 
heavens  !  what  are  you  about  ?  I  declare  you  have  been  crush- 
ing my  bonnet  all  this  time,  and  it  is  the  only  one  I  have  1 
and  I  believe  is  not  yet  paid  for  !       \^Exit  with  Raymond.] 

Countess. 
[^Looking  after  them.      To  Susan.']     What  did  I  tell 
you  ?    You  see  that  all  is  going  on  as  I  desired  ? 

6 


62  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

IIlPPOLTTK. 

Monsieur  de  Nanjac  seems  to  be  a  man  of  heart. 

Oliver. 
He  is,  indeed  !     I  must  try  and  save  him,  at  the  risk  of 
repenting  my  trouble. 

Servant. 
[^Announces.']     Madame  de  Santis. 

Oliver. 
Now  for  your  meeting  ! 

Enter  Valentina. 
Countess. 
You  are  late,  my  dear ! 

Valentina. 
[^Aside  to  Countess.']    I  could  not  get  rid  of  M.  de  La- 
tour  earlier;   he  has  detained  me  for  the  last  hour.     Is 
Monsieur  Richond  here  ? 

Countess. 
He  is  yonder,  talking  with  Oliver. 

Valentina. 
How  my  heart  beats  ! 

Susan. 
Courage  1 

Oliver. 

l^Approaching  Valentina.]     How  are  you  ? 

Valrntina. 
"Well,  thank  you ! 

Oliver. 
How  plainly  you  are  dressed !     Do  you  know  it  is  very 
becoming  ?    I  will  present  you  to  my  friend  Richond  :  having 
invited  him  here,  you  must  doubtless  be  anxious  to  know  him. 

Valentina. 
Yes ;  introduce  us. 

Oliver. 

{_Presents  Hippolyte.]     Monsieur  Hippolyte   Richond; 

Madame  de  Santis  I 


ACT  II.— SCENE  L  63 

HiPPOLYTE. 

[Bows.^     Madame  1 

Valentin  A. 
IBowing.J    Sir,  I  have  long  disired  to  meet  you. 

HiPPOLYTE. 

You  are  very  kind,  Madame  !     I  have  been  but  little  in 
France  during  the  past  ten  years  I 

Valentina. 
\^ After  assuring  herself  that  no  one  is  vnlhin  hearing. "l 
Well,  Hippolyte,  what  do  you  intend  doing  with  me  ? 

HiPPOLYTE. 

With  you,  Madame  ? 

Valentina. 
Yes. 

Hippolyte. 
I  intend  having  nothing  to  do  with  you. 

Valentina. 
My  position  has  become  unbearable. 

Hippolyte. 
Why? 

Valentina. 
Can  you  ask  1     It  is  ten  years  since  we  have  met ;  yet  I 
am  your  wife ! 

Hippolyte. 
Legally,  yes  1 

Valentina. 
You  used  to  love  me. 

Hippolyte. 
Fondly  1     Your  conduct,  however,  has  almost  killed  me  I 

Valentina. 
And,  now  ? — 

Hippolyte. 
Now,  I  regard  you  with  perfect  indiflference. 


64  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Valentina. 
You  came  here,  knowing  that  you  were  to  meet  me.     If 
you  were  indifferent,  you  would  not  have  done  so  ! 

HiPPOLYTE. 

You  are  mistaken.  I  knew  I  had  nothing  to  fear  in  meet- 
ing you. 

Valentina. 
Then  you  will  never  pardon  me  ? 

HiPPOLTTB. 

Never  1 

Valentina. 
You  will  never  again  open  your  doors  to  me  ? 

HiPPOLYTE. 

If  I  were  so  dispose4,  I  could  not  1 

Valentina. 
Then  what  I  have  heard  is  true  ? 

HiPPOLTTK. 

What  have  you  heard  ? 

Valentina. 
That  others  occupy  my  place  in  your  house ! 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Yes ;  others  whom  I  love  fill  the  place  that  you  have  for- 
feited I 

Valentina. 
And  I  can  at  any  moment  expel  them  I 

HiPPOLYTE. 

If  any  one  has  the  right  to  threaten,  bear  in  mind  it  is 
myself.  After  three  years  of  grief,  solitude,  and  despair, 
during  which,  had  one  word  or  one  tear  of  repentance  come 
from  your  heart,  I  could  have  pardoned  you,  for  I  still  loved 
you — after  three  years  of  misery,  I  acquired  the  right  to  live 
as  I  pleased  1     With  another  I  have  found  the  happiness  de- 


ACT  II.— SCENE  I.  65 

nied  to  me  with  you  1  See  to  what  a  strange  position  an 
honorable  man  may  become  reduced  through  the  crimes  of  a 
wife  !  I  am  acquainted  with  every  act  of  yours  since  our 
separation !  It  is  only  lately  that  the  idea  of  reuniting  your- 
self to  me  has  entered  your  head ;  only  after  all  your  means 
have  been  squandered  through  an  idle  and  dissolute  course 
of  life ;  after  having  exhausted  every  other  resource,  you 
have  said  to  yourself,  "Now  I  will  see  if  my  husband  will 
receive  me  !"  No,  Madame  1  Not  a  word  you  have  uttered 
has  emanated  from  your  heart !  All  communication  between 
us  is  at  an  end.     You  are  dead  to  me  forever  I 

Valentina. 
Then  you  care  not  what  becomes  of  me  ? 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Do  whatever  you  please.  I  do  not  love  you,  so  you  can- 
not render  me  miserable;  and  being  an  honest  man,  you 
cannot  cover  me  with  ridicule ! 

Valentina. 
I  have  learned  all  I  wished  to  know.     Remember,  what- 
ever proceeding  I  may  make  against  you,  that  it  is  you  your- 
self who  have  driven  me  to  take  it. 

HiPPOLYTE. 

\^Going.']  Then  farewell  forever  I  for  we  shall  never  meet 
again  ! 

Enter  Marcella  and  Raymond. 

Marcella. 
[ To  Hippolyte.']    Are  you  going  so  soon  ? 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Yes,  Mademoiselle.     [To  Valentina.'\    Adieu,  Madame. 

Valentina. 
\_Bowing.'\    Monsieur. 

6* 


66  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Countess. 
You  are  leaving  us  early,  Monsieur  Eichond ;  that  is  not 
kind! 

HiPPOLTTE. 

I  promised  to  return  home  soon,  Madame. 

Countess. 
Why  did  you  not  bring  Madame  Richond  ? 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Madame  de  Santis  did  not  extend  an  invitation  to  her. 

Countess. 
I  receive  every  Wednesday ;  whenever  Madame  Richond 
and  yourself  will  honor  me  with  your  company  to  tea,  I  shall 
,be  charmed  to  receive  you  both. 

HiPPOLYTE. 

[ J?oios  to  Oliver.']    I  will  see  you  to-morrow ;  I  have  much 
to  tell  you.  lExit.'] 

Makcella. 
There  is  no  counting  on  these  married  men  I 

Raymond. 
[  To  Oliver,  aside.']    What  were  you  about  to  say  to  me 
a  moment  ago  ? 

Oliver. 
Ah,  yes !     You  no  longer  mention   Madame  D'Ange. 
What  has  become  of  your  grand  attachment  for  her  ? 

Raymond. 
I  have  given  her  up  entirely. 

Oliver. 
Already  ? 

Raymond. 
Yes ;  I  found  I  was  only  wasting  time. 

Oliver. 
Do  yon  know  you  are  becoming  a  thorough  Parisian? 


ACT  II.— SCENE  I.  67 

You  are  getting  to  be  sensible  and  reasonable.     I  congratu- 
late you  !     And  this  encourages  me  to  tender  you  a  piece  of 

advice. 

Raymond. 
What  is  it  ? 

Oliver. 
You  promised  the  Countess,  I  believe,  to  bring  your  sister 

here? 

Eaymond. 
I  did. 

Oliver. 
Well !  do  not  bring  her. 

Raymond. 
Why  ?     Is  the  Countess's  house  disreputable  ? 

Oliver. 

I  did  not  say  so.     No  house  presents  a  more  respectable 

appearance.     If  you  could  see  beneath  the  surface,  however, 

you  would  be  somewhat  astonished.     Listen !     [^Raising  his 

voice. ^     Shall  we  not  see  Monsieur  de  Latour  this  evMiing  ? 

Countess. 
He  sent  me  a  regret:  "a  business  engagement" — 

Marcella. 
Had  the  inventor  of  that  phrase  only  taken  out  a  patent, 
what  a  fortune  he  would  have  made  1 

Oliver. 
For  once,  perhaps,  in  all  his  life,  Monsieur  de  Latour  may 
have  told  the  truth. 

Marcella. 
What  has  he  done,  that  you  should  speak  ill  of  him  ?   He 
never  abuses  you  1 

Oliver. 
Because  he  has  no  reason  to  do  so. 

Valentina. 
I  am  sure  he  is  a  very  agreeable,  a  well-educated  and 


68  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

polished  gentleman,  which  is  more  than  can  be  said  of  every 
one! 

Oliver. 
How  princely  his  mode  of  spending  his  money  1 

Valentina. 
That  is  also  true  I 

Oliver. 
It  is  not,  however,  to  be  wondered  at,  for  he  gambles 
every  night,  and  always  wins  1 

Countess. 
Do  yon  mean  to  insinuate  that  he  cheats  ? 

Oliver. 
No  I     I  only  say  his  luck  at  cards  is  astonishing,  and  must 
be  made  to  order  I 

Raymond. 
My  dear  Oliver,  do  not  forget  that  I  have  been  the  second 
of  Monsieur  de  Latour. 

Oliver. 
You  made  his  acquaintance  at  a  hotel  in  Baden.     You 
are  an  honorable  man,  and  believe  every  man  to  be  the  same. 
I  should  never  have  permitted  the  duel  to  take  place  which 
Monsieur  de  Latour  pretended  to  seek. 

SCSAN. 

Then  yon  would  call  his  courage  in  question  ?    Let  me 
tell  you,  he  fought  at  eighteen,  and  killed  his  adversary. 

Oliver. 
I  do  not  pretend  to  question  Monsieur  de  Latour's  cour- 
age ;  I  only  say  that  an  honorable  man,  like  Monsieur  de 
Maucroix,  could  never  condescend  to  measure  swords  with 
him,  nor  should  an  honorable  man  like  Monsieur  de  Nanjac 
condescend  to  become  his  second. 


ACT  n.— SCENE  I.  69 

SCSAN. 

Come,  my  dear  Oliver,  Monsieur  de  Latour  is  as  good  as 
Monsieur  de  Maueroix. 

Oliver. 
jSTo  ;  for  Monsieur  de  Latour,  though  he  pretends  to  be  a 
count,  is  only  the  son  of  a  pawnbroker  at  Marais,  who  left 
him  fifty  thousand  francs,  out  of  which,  thanks  to  his  skill  at 
cards,  he  makes  an  income  of  forty  thousand  francs  a  year. 
I  am  astonished  that  ladies  who  call  themselves  fashionable 
and  respectable — 

Countess. 
Who  are  so,  my  dear  Oliver  1 

Oliveb. 

Who  are  so,  then,  if  you  wish ; — should  admit  so  readily 
to  their  society  a  person  of  whom  they  know  so  little,  and 
who  will  end  by  driving  every  real  gentleman  away.  I  am 
certain  Messrs.  de  Bryade,  Bonchamp,  and  all  that  set,  as 
Madame  de  Santis  terms  them,  have  been  prevented  from 
coming  here  this  evening,  through  fear  of  meeting  Monsieur 
de  Latour. 

Countess. 

Come,  come,  enough  has  been  said  on  this  subject  1 

Oliver. 
Madame  de  Santis  !  oh,  Madame  de  Santis  1 

Valentina. 

Well? 

Oliver. 

Are  your  apartments  in  Rue  de  la  Paix  all  arranged  ? 

Valentina. 
What  is  that  to  you  ?    You  will  never  visit  me  I 

Oliver. 
Thank  you  !     And  your  husband  ? 


70  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Valkntina. 
My  husband  ? 

Oliver. 
My  friend  Richond  has  been  giving  you  Some  information 
about  him.     Will  he  gorge  the  bait  of  reconciliation,  and 
pay  for  the  blue  satin  and  amber  brocade  ? 

Valkntina. 
[^Angrily.']     My  husband  ?     He  shall  hear  from  me  1 

Oliver. 
That  will  doubtless  afford  him  pleasure. 

Valkntina. 
I  shall  enter  suit  against  him. 

Olivbr. 
Well,  that  is  an  idea !    But  for  what  will  you  sue  him  f 

Valkntina. 
Yon  shall  see.     I  know  some  things  about  my  husband ; 
my  lawyer  will  arrange  the  matter ;  for,  after  all,  I  am  his 
wife. 

Oliver. 
Whose,  your  lawyer's  ? 

Valkntina. 
My  dear  Oliver,  you  are  only  witty  once  a  week,  and  as 
yesterday  was  your  day,  you  had  better  say  no  more  I 

Oliver. 
That  is  the  smartest  thing  I  ever  heard  from  your  lips. 

Marcklla. 
Let  him  go  on,  dear  Valentina.     You  are  in  the  right; 
you  will  gain  your  lawsuit,  I  am  sure  of  it.     You  have  no- 
thing further  to  say.  Monsieur  Oliver  ? 

Olivkr. 
No,  Mademoiselle  I     From  the  moment  you  touch  upon 


ACT  II.— SCENE  I.  71 

these  matters,  I  am  silent;  and  as  I  am  not  at  home  on  the 
subject  of  toys  and  dolls,  I  never  talk  with  little  girls. 

Mabcella. 
Is  that  intended  for  me  ? 

Oliver. 
Yes,  child ! 

Marcella. 
I  speak  of  things  about  which  you  converse.     When  grown 
persons  discuss  matters  in  the  presence  of  little  girls,  little 
girls  have  certainly  the  right  to  join  in  the  conversation. 
Besides,  I  am  no  longer  a  child. 

Oliver. 
What  are-  you  then.  Mademoiselle  ? 

Marcella. 
I  am  a  woman  1 

Oliver. 
I  have  heard  so.  Mademoiselle,  but  my  respect  for  you 
would  not  allow  me  to  believe  it. 

Marcella. 
[^Indignantly.']     Monsieur! 

Yalentina. 
I  knew  you  would  end  with  some  piece  of  impertinence  ! 

Countess. 
[Leading  off  Marcella.]  You  have  gone  rather  too  far, 
Monsieur  de  Jalin;  this  child  has  done  nothing  to  offend 
you.  If  hereafter  you  find  yourself  obliged  to  say  disagree- 
able and  insulting  things  in  my  house,  may  I  beg  that  you 
will  say  them  to  me  and  to  me  alone.  Come,  Marcella ! 
Will  you  accompany  us.  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  ? 

Raymond. 
I  will  join  you  immediately. 

[Countess  and  Mabcella  exeunt.'] 


72  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Oliver. 
You  hare  heard,  my  dear  Raymond ;  would  you  now  per- 
mit your  sister  to  visit  here  ? 

Batmokd. 
Then  all  that  you  have  said  is  true  ? 

OUVKR. 

Assuredly  1 

Raymond. 
This  Monsieur  de  Latour  is — 

OUVEB. 

Un  Chevalier  d* Industrie  ! 

Raymond. 
And  Madame  de  Santis  ? 

Oliver. 
Is  a  heartless,  dissolute  woman,  whose  husband  has  for- 
bidden her  to  bear  his  name,  which  she  vilely  dishonored. 

Raymond. 
And  Mademoiselle  de  Sanceneaux  ? 

Oliver. 
Is  a  marriageable  young  girl,  the  natural  product  of  this 
society. 

Raymond. 
But  in  what  society  are  we  ?     I  am  all  bewilderment  1 

Oliver. 
Ah,  my  dear  friend,  one  must  have  frequented,  as  I  have 
done  thoroughly,  the  different  grades  of  Parisian  life,  to  com- 
prehend all  their  individualities  and  their  lights  and  shades. 
How  can  I  explain  this  to  you  ?     Are  you  fond  of  peaches  ? 

Raymond. 
Peaches  ?    Yes  1 


ACT  II.— SCENE  I.  73 

Oliver. 
Well,  enter  a  fruit  store  and  ask  the  proprietor  for  his 
best  peaches.  He  Avill  show  you  a  basket  containing  mag- 
nificent specimens,  separated  from  each  other  by  leaves,  in 
order  that  they  may  not  be  injured  from  contact.  Ask  him 
the  price,  and  he  will  tell  you,  we  will  suppose,  twenty  cents 
each.  Look  around  and  you  will  be  sure  to  see  another 
basket  filled  with  peaches  equally  fine  in  appearance  with 
the  first,  only  lying  closer  together,  and  thus  not  visible 
on  all  sides.  You  will  price  these  and  be  told  that  they 
are  worth  only  fifteen  cents  each.  You  will  naturally  in- 
quire why  these  peaches,  apparently  as  large,  fine,  ripe,  and 
tempting  as  the  others,  are  so  much  less  in  value  ?  The 
vender  will  then  take  up  one  of  them  at  random;  he  will 
carefully  turn  it,  and  show  you  a  little  speck  which  causes 
its  inferiority.  Well,  my  dear  friend,  we  are  now  in  the 
basket  of  peaches  at  fifteen  cents  each.  The  women  whom 
you  see  around  you  have  all  some  fault  in  their  past  history, 
or  some  spot  on  their  name.  They  crowd  together,  in  order 
that  they  shall  exhibit  as  little  as  possible  of  their  true  cha- 
racter ;  and  with  the  same  origin,  the  same  exterior,  and  the 
same  prejudices  with  women  of  society,  they  find  themselves 
excluded  from  their  association;  they  constitute  what  we 
call  the  Demi-Monde,  which  is  neither  aristocracy  nor  ple- 
bianism,  which  floats,  like  a  moving  island,  in  the  Parisian 
Sea,  which  invites  and  receives  all  who  fall,  all  who  emigrate 
from  the  two  firm  continents  of  society,  without  considering 
who  they  are  or  inquiring  whence  they  came. 

Raymond. 
But  where  does  this  world  live  ? 

Oliver. 
Everywhere;   but  in  Paris  it  can  be  more  easily  dis- 
tinguished than  elsewhere. 

7 


74  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Raymond. 
By  what  features  ? 

Outer. 

By  the  lack  of  hnsbands  1     It  is  full  of  married  women 

whose  lords  are  Invisible. 

Raymond. 
But  whence  comes  this  strange  world  ? 

Oliver. 
It  is  a  modern  production.  In  days  gone  by,  adultery,  as 
we  understand  it,  did  not  exist.  Husbands  were  then  more 
lenient,  less  willing  to  be  convinced  of  a  wife's  faithlessness, 
for  public  opinion,  while  it  offered  him  no  redress,  ridiculed 
him  more  than  it  condemned  the  wife !  But  since  men  have 
been  armed  with  the  legal  right  of  casting  from  their  bosoms 
the  wives  who  have  violated  their  marriage  vows,  a  trans- 
formation has  taken  place  in  conjugal  relations  which  has 
given  birth  to  another  grade  of  society ;  for  what  becomes 
of  all  the  compromised,  disgraced,  and  repudiated  wives? 
The  first  who  found  herself  in  either  of  these  conditions, 
went,  doubtless,  with  tears  and  shame,  into  deepest  solitude, 
there  to  deplore  her  fall.  The  second  went  in  search  of 
the  first,  and  when  there  were  two  they  grew  to  calling  their 
crime  a  misfortune  or  an  error,  and  thus  consoled  and  excused 
each  other.  When  another  joined  them,  they  had  little  din- 
ners, and  a  fourth  enabled  them  to  have  a  contra-danse. 
Then  around  them  clustered  young  girls  who  had  begun  life 
with  a  fault;  pretended  widows;  false  wives,  bearing  the 
names  of  men  to  whom  they  were  never  legally  united, — in 
fine,  all  falsely-positioned  women  who  assume  to  be  other 
than  what  they  really  are,  and  who  wish  to  conceal  their  true 
character.  Thus  this  bastard-society  increases  daily  in  num- 
bers. It  is  full  of  attractions  to  young  men,  who  here  find 
love-making  much  easier  and  less  dangerous  than  in  more 


ACT  II.— SCENE  I.  75 

elevated  circles,  and  more  economical  and  agreeable  than  in 
lower  spheres.  But  the  youths  who  frequent  it  fall  back 
from  time  to  time  among  mere  courtezans,  who,  from  jeal- 
ousy, indiscretion,  or  pique,  not  only  ascertain  the  antece- 
dents of  these  ladies,  but  laughingly  recount  them  at  the 
supper  table,  familiarly  calling  names  once  distinguished 
and  honorable,  and  ending  with  the  taunt,  "  Thus  you  see 
women  of  so-called  society,  after  all,  are  no  better  than 
ourselves." 

Raymond. 
But  what  becomes  of  this  society  ? 

Oliver. 

I  know  not !  Only,  that  under  this  glittering  surface  of 
youth,  beauty,  and  fortune,  and  beneath  this  world  of  laces, 
gay  with  festivity  and  golden  with  love,  lie  the  skeletons  of 
buried  hopes  and  smoulder  the  embers  of  remorse.  There 
scandals  are  engendered,  and  there  gather  the  elements  which 
sooner  or  later  bring  disgrace  and  ruin  in  their  train,  the 
dishonor  of  families,  and  the  separation  of  children  from 
their  mothers,  whom  happily  they  forget  early,  that  later 
they  may  not  curse  them  1  But  youth  fades,  and  flatterers 
depart ;  and  from  the  depths  of  the  past,  unavailing  regrets 
and  the  pangs  of  remorse,  the  sense  of  abandonment  and 
the  dread  of  solitude,  all  come  forth  to  darken  the  present 
and  imbitter  the  fiiture  ! 

Among  these  women  there  are  some  who  attach  them- 
selves to  a  man  stupid  enough  to  be  serious  in  his  devotion, 
and  end  with  effecting  his  ruin  in  common  with  their  own ; 
others  fall  into  the  lowest  depths  of  infamy ;  while  others, 
like  Madame  de  Yernieres,  cling  to  this  false  society,  and 
die  between  the  desire  of  regaining  their  lost  position  and 
the  fear  of  falling  into  one  still  lower !  Then,  again,  some, 
either  from  repentance  or  fear  of  a  lonely,  cheerless  future, 
implore,  through  the  medium  of  family  interest,  in  the  name 


76  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

of  their  children,  the  pardon  of  their  husbands.  Mutual 
friends  endeavor  to  effect  a  reconciliation.  They  represent 
that  the  woman  is  no  longer  young,  that  she  can  no  longer 
furnish  food  for  scandal ;  they  draw  the  veil  of  charity  over 
her  errors;  her  husband  forgives  her,  and  with  him  she 
travels  abroad ;  on  her  return,  the  world  closes  its  eyes  to 
her  history,  and  permits  her,  now  and  then,  modestly  and 
timidly  to  appear  in  the  circles  from  which  she  had  been  so 
long  excluded. 

Raymond. 
Is  all  this  indeed  true  ?    How  delighted  the  Baronness 
would  be  with  your  picture  ! 

OUVKB. 

Why? 

Ravxo.vd. 
Because  she  has  herself  drawn  the  same  portrait ! 

Oliver, 
She? 

Raymond. 
Yes ;  though  less  wittily,  I  must  confess. 

OuVKB. 

Ah  I  [osirfe]  a  deep  woman  thatl  [^Aloud.^  But  if  the 
Baronness  understands  this  society,  why  does  she  frequent  it  ? 

Raymond.  • 

The  very  question  I  asked  her  I  She  told  me  that  old 
friendships  sometimes  drew  her  into  it,  and  that  Madame  de 
Santis,  for  instance,  was  the  companion  of  her  childhood. 
Besides,  she  takes  great  interest  in  Mademoiselle  de  Sance- 
neaux,  and  is  desirous  to  withdraw  her  from  her  equivocal 
position.  But  she  will  soon  quit  these  associations,  and 
forever ! 

Oliver. 

How? 


ACT  II.— SCENE  I.  77 

Raymond. 
That  is  a  secret ;  but  in  a  week  you  shall  learn  all. 
Enter  Marcella. 
Maecella. 
Monsieur  de  Nanjac,  Madame  d'Ange  wishes  to  see  you. 
[^Exit  Raymond.]     Do  not  go  Monsieur  de  Jalin,  I  want 
to  speak  with  you. 

Oliver. 
Mademoiselle ! 

Marcella. 

You  were  harsh  to  me  this  evening ;  you  made  me  weep ; 
what  have  I  done  ? 

Oliver. 
Nothing,  Mademoiselle. 

Marcella. 
This  is  not  the  first  time  you  have  spoken  unkindly  to 
me.     I  know,  for  I  have  been  told,  that  you  have  a  bad 
opinion  of  me. 

Oliver. 
You  have  been  deceived. 

Marcella. 
You  were  not  always  thus  harsh  to  me ;  on  the  contrary, 
you  formerly  had  a  kind  word  for  my  ear.  I  used  to  flatter 
myself  that  I  almost  possessed  your  friendship.  You  were 
not  happy  in  your  family  relations ;  you  confided  in  me ;  I, 
too,  had  my  griefs :  there  was  the  bond  of  sympathy  between 
us.  Why  are  you  offended  now  ?  With  what  can  you  re- 
proach me  ? 

Oliver. 
I  still  feel  for  you  the  same  sympathy  and  regard.  Made- 
moiselle, only — 

Marcella. 
Oh,  speak! 

Oliver. 
Well !  a  young  girl  should  be  a  young  girl,  and  not  med- 
7* 


78  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

die  in  concerns  which  do  not  belong  to  her  age.  There  are 
times  when  your  conversation  embarrasses  me.  I  am  con- 
stantly filled  with  regret  at  seeing  you  mixing  in  this  society, 
and  to  hear  you  touch  upon  such  subjects  as  those  which 
Madame  de  Santis  is  in  the  habit  of  discussing. 

Marcella. 
Then  your  severity  proceeded  from  the  interest  you  feel  in 
me !  Oh,  thanks,  thanks  I  I  know  you  are  right ;  but  what 
can  I  do  ?  I  cannot  break  away  from  these  associations.  I 
have  neither  father  nor  mother  I  The  sentiments  I  express 
are  those  to  which  I  have  been  accustomed  to  listen  for  the 
last  four  years.  Perhaps,  after  all,  my  being  in  this  circle 
may  be  beneficial,  for  I  have  constantly  before  me  such  ter- 
rible examples  of  the  misery  and  shame  to  which  one  false 
step  reduces  women,  that  I  have  learned,  at  least,  to  beware 
of  the  rock  on  which  so  many  are  wrecked ! 

Oliver. 
True! 

Marcella. 

The  interest  you  have  manifested  in  me  emboldens  me  to 
ask  your  advice.     Monsieur  Oliver — 

Oliver. 

Speak,  Mademoiselle. 

Marcella. 

What  can  be  done  by  a  girl  like  myself,  without  family, 
without  fortune,  with  no  protector  but  a  relative  like  Ma- 
dame de  Vemieres,  reared  in  the  society  in  which  you  find 
me;  what  can  she  do  to  remain  pure  in  thought  and  deed, 
to  escape  suspicion,  and  to  resist  evil  influences  ?  You  turn 
away — ^you  do  not  reply !  You  can  pity,  yes,  even  blame 
me,  but  you  cannot  advise  me  1  Have  I  not  now  the  right 
to  say  that  I  am  no  longer  a  child  ? 

Oliver. 
Pardon,  oh  pardon  me  I 


ACT  II.— SCENE  I.  79 

Marcella. 
I  will  do  more  than  pardon,  I  will  bless  you  for  having 
opened  my  eyes  before  it  was  too  late  I  All  I  ask  of  you  is, 
that  happen  what  may,  when  you  hear  me  defamed  you  will 
defend  me,  if  only  a  little,  and  in  exchange  I  promise  to  find 
the  means  of  remaining  a  pure  and  spotless  woman !  Some 
day,  perhaps,  I  may  find  an  honest  man  who  will  recompense 
me !     Good-bye,  Monsieur  Oliver,  and  many  thanks. 

^Going.'] 
Enter  Susan. 

Susan. 
I  am  glad  to  see  that  peace  is  declared ! 

Marcella. 
Yes,  and  I  am  so  happy  1  \_E3cit.'} 

Oliver. 
Strange  girl ! 

Susan. 
She  loves  you ! 

Oliver. 
Me? 

Susan. 
Yes,  and  has  done  so  for  some  time. 

Oliver. 
Well,  I  am  learning  something  every  day  I 

Susan. 
I,  too,  am  learning  something, — namely :  that  your  word 
cannot  be  depende(J  on. 

Oliver. 
Why? 

Susan. 
Because  you  have  not  been  faithful  to  the  friendship  you 
promised  me. 

Oliver. 
What  have  I  done  ? 


80  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Susan. 
Monsieur  de  Nanjac  has  just  repeated  your  conversation 

to  me. 

Oliver. 
I  did  not  mention  yon. 

Susan. 
This  is  a  subterfuge  I    To  say  to  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  what 
you  did  say,  was  equivalent  to  denouncing  me ;  however, 
I  was  ahead  of  you  1 

Oliver, 
At  worst,  what  difference  could  it  make,  since  you  do 
not  love  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  ? 

Susan. 
How  do  you  know  that? 

Olivkb. 
Then  you  do  love  him  ? 

Susan. 
I  am  not  accountable  to  you,  sir ! 

OUVER. 

Perhaps  you  may  be. 

Susan. 
Shall  there  be  war  between  us  ? 

OUVKR. 

I  am  prepared  for  it  I 

Susan. 
You  have  letters  of  mine,  sir,  which  I  beg  you  will  imme- 
diately return. 

Oliver. 
To-morrow  I  will  return  them  in  person. 

Susan. 
Until  to-morrow,  then ! — 

Oliver. 
Until  to-morrow !  \^ExU.'\ 

END  OF  SECOND  ACT. 


ACT  THIUD. 

Dravying-Room  in  House  of  Madame  D'Ange. 

SUSAN  AND  SERVANT. 

Susan. 
Has  my  notary  been  here  ? 

Servant. 
No,  Madame. 

Susan. 
I  am  going  out;  should  a  gentleman  call,  request  him  to 
wait  for  me. 

\_Servant  announces  Mademoiselle  de  Sancenaux.] 

Susan. 
Admit  her.  \_EocU  Servant.'] 

Enter  Marcella. 

Susan. 
To  what  am  I  indebted  for  the  pleasure  of  this  visit,  my 
child? 

Margklla. 
Do  I  disturb  you,  Madame  ? 

Susan. 
You  never  disturb  me ;  I  am  so  much  attached  to  you, 
that  it  always  aflFords  me  pleasure  to  have  you  near  me.   But 
you  appear  agitated  ? 

Marcella. 
Oh,  Madame !  you  could  do  me  a  great  favor,  if  you  would ! 

Susan. 
How  ?     Speak ! 


82  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Marcella. 
You  have  iuflaence  with  the  Marqais  de  Thonnerins  ? 

Susan. 
Yes ;  he  is  disposed  to  be  friendly. 

Marcella. 
Some  four  years  since  he  proposed  to  my  aunt  to  have  me 
educated,  with  his  daughter  as  a  companion. 

Susan. 
Yes;  I  heard  him  mention  the  circumstance,  but  your  aunt 
refused. 

Marce2xji. 
Unfortunately !     Had  she  consented,  I  should  not  now  be 
placed  in  so  disagreeable  a  position. 

Susan. 
Why,  what  has  occurred  ? 

Marcella. 
I  do  not  wish  to  complain  of  my  aunt;  it  is  not  her  fault 
that  the  small  fortune  left  to  me  by  my  parents  has,  little  by 
little,  become  exhausted  for  household  expenses.  I  shall  ever 
be  her  debtor  for  that  kindness  and  affection  which  money 
cannot  repay.  Pecuniary  embarrassments  cannot  fail,  in 
time,  to  sour  the  most  amiable  disposition.  Yesterday,  after 
your  departure,  my  aunt  and  myself  had  a  somewhat  painful 
explanation,  inasmuch  as  I  then  informed  her  that  I  did  not 
love  Monsieur  de  Nanjac,  that  I  had  already  told  him  so,  and 
that  I  could  never  become  his  wife. — 

Susan. 
Because  you  love  another  ? 

Marcella. 
Perhaps  so !     My  aunt  at  last  gave  me  to  understand  that 
if  I  did  not  second  her  plans  she  could  no  longer  keep  charge 
of  me.     When  I  retired  for  the  night,  I  thought  over  every 


ACT  III.— SCENE  I.  83 

feasible  plan  by  which  I  might  honorably  support  myself,  and 
no  longer  be  a  burden  to  her.  It  was  then  I  remembered 
Monsieur  de  Thonnerins'  kind  oflfer,  and  determined  to  call 
upon  you,  who  have  ever  been  so  obliging  and  aflPectionate  to 
me,  and  beg  you  to  intercede  with  the  Marquis  on  my  behalf, 
to  obtain  the  position  which  he  offered  to  me  four  years  ago. 
Mademoiselle  de  Thonnerins  will  probably  not  marry  for  some 
years  to  come.  She  lives  very  retired ;  I  should  love  her 
dearly,  and  she  would  become  attached  to  me,  and  when  she 
married  I  am  sure  she  would  retain  me  near  her.  Oh,  Ma- 
dame 1  if  you  will  but  aid  me,  my  plan  must  succeed ;  and  I 
shall  then  be  indebted  to  you,  if  not  for  a  brilliant  position, 
at  least  for  an  honorable  independence. 

Susan. 
I  will  see  the  Marquis  this  very  day. 

Maecella. 
You  are  kind  indeed ! 

Susan. 
I  am  obliged  to  go  out,  but  will  call  on  the  Marquis  be- 
fore I  return.     So  give  me  a  note  for  him. 

Marcella. 
I  will  go  home,  write  the  letter,  and  send  it  to  you. 

Susan. 
Write  it  here,  while  I  put  on  my  bonnet ;  you  may  bring 
it  to  me  in  the  next  room,  and  wait  here  for  the  Marquis's 
answer.     I  shall  be  back  in  less  than  an  hour. 

[^Bings  a  bell.^ 
Marcella, 
During  your  absence  I  will  return  home,  for  I  left  without 
my  aunt's  knowledge,  and  she  may  feel  uneasy  about  me. 

Enter  Servant. 

Susan. 
[  To  Servant.^    If  Monsieur  de  Jalin  should  call,  ask  him 


84  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

to  wait,  as  also  Monsieur  de  Nanjac.  \^ExU  Servant.']  Bring 
me  your  letter,  my  child,  as  soon  as  it  is  finished.       \^Exii.'\ 

Marcella. 
[  Writing.']  What  a  happy  inspiration  I  have  had !  Hea- 
ven grant  my  prayer  !  Yes,  it  will  be  granted !  [^During 
this  time  Oliver  enters,  and  gazes  silently  at  Marcella. 
She  rises,  seals  her  letter,  and  turning,  discovers  him.'] 
You,  Oliver? 

OLrVKR. 

Did  I  alarm  you,  Mademoiselle  ? 

Marcella. 
I  did  not  expect  to  sec  you  I 

Oliver. 
You  seem  to  be  in  fine  spirits  this  morning. 

Marcella. 
I  am !     My  heart  is  filled  with  new  and  blissful  hopes,  and 
to  you  I  owe  their  inspiration !     Since  yesterday,  the  future 
has  begnn  to  wear  a  smiling  face  I 

Oliver. 
Pray,  what  has  happened  ? 

Marcella. 
You  shall  soon  know  all.     From  you,  my  best  friend,  I 
have  no  secrets.  [^Ooing.] 

Oliver. 
Are  you  going  already  ? 

Marcella. 
In  an  hour  I  shall  return ;  you  will  still  be  here,  for  I  shall 
ask  the  Baronness  to  retain  you.     [  Taking  his  hand.]     Be 
ever  frank  as  you  were  yesterday  I    You  little  know  how 
much  good  the  candor  of  an  honest  heart  may  produce. 

[Exit.] 
Oliver. 
The  heart  of  a  woman  may,  perhaps,  be  fathomed,  but 


ACT  III.— SCENE  I.  85 

that  of  a  young  girl  is  beyond  penetration !  Heaven  knows 
how  harshly  I  thought  of  this  poor  child  yesterday,  and  how 
kindly  I  feel  toward  her  to-day.  [^Draws  letter  from  his 
pocket.']  Now  to  put  the  epitaph  on  the  dead  past  I  May 
the  earth  rest  lightly  upon  it  1  [  Writing.']  "  To  the  Baron- 
ness  D'Ange." 

Enter  Raymond. 

Oliver. 
[^Aside.]    Raymond!     The  devil!     '[Beplaces  the  letters 
in  his  pocket.     Aloud.]    My  dear  Raymond,  is  that  you? 
I  was  speaking  of  you  not  an  hour  ago. 

Raymond. 
With  whom  ? 

Oliver. 
De  Maucroix's  father,  with  whom  I  breakfasted.     I  say  I 
spoke  of  you,  but  it  was  he  who  first  mentioned  your  name. 

Raymond. 
Does  he  know  me  ? 

Oliver. 
Personally,  no ;  but  he  is  very  intimate  with  the  Minister 
of  War,  who  spoke  to  him  of  you;  and,  as  De  Maucroix 
knows  you  to  be  a  friend  of  mine,  and,  like  an  old  soldier, 
feels  an  interest  in  all  who  worthily  wear  an  epaulet,  he  in- 
quired whether  I  knew  your  reason  for  resigning  your  com- 
mission. I  replied  that  so  far  from  knowing  your  motives, 
I  was  ignorant  even  of  the  fact ;  in  fine,  that  I  doubted  it, 
although  he  assured  me  that  he  had  heard  it  from  the 
minister  himself. 

Raymond. 
It  is  true ;  and  if  I  did  not  before  mention  the  circum- 
stance to  you — 

Oliver. 
Your  secrets  are  your  own,  my  dear  Raymond ;  my  friend- 
8 


86  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

ship  induces  me  to  feel  great  interest  in  your  welfare,  but 
never  leads  me  to  be  indiscreet.  If  you  have  resigned  your 
commission,  (which  is  a  serious  step,)  you  must  have  had 
strong  reasons  for  so  doing — such  as  the  solicitude  of  a  friend 
would  have  combatted  in  vain.     You  are  well,  at  any  rate  ? 

Baymond. 
Perfectly !    Are  you  going  ? 

Oliver. 
Yes ;  the  Baronness  is  not  at  home. 

Raymond. 
Let  us  await  her  return. 

Olivbe. 
I  am  in  a  hurry ;  I  have  a  visit  to  make. 

Raymond. 
Have  you  any  message  to  leave  ? 

OLrVBR. 

Yes ;  tell  the  Baronness  that  I  brought  her  what  she  re- 
quested. 

Raymond. 
What  a  mysterious  commission  !     Are  you  offended  with 
me? 

Olivrr. 
Good  heavens,  no  I   I  have  nothing  whereat  to  be  offended ! 

Raymond. 
The  friendship  which  you  entertained  for  me  gives  you 
the  right  to  be  astonished,  even  offended,  at  any  conceal- 
ment on  my  part  1  Pardon  me,  but  I  promised  silence  to 
one  to  whom  I  can  refuse  nothing ;  and  not  only  have  I  con- 
cealed from  you  the  truth,  but  yesterday  I  was  even  guilty 
of  prevarication.  Now,  however,  I  will  tell  you  all,  for, 
since  deceiving  you,  I  have  been  humiliated  and  ill  at  ease. 


ACT  III.— SCENE  I.  8T 

OlJVER. 

Tell  me  nothing,  I  entreat  of  you  ! 

Raymond. 
Come,  come,  Oliver  1   this  petulance  is  well  enough  for 
children,  but  it  is  unworthy  of  men.     Come,  I  have  a  favor 
to  ask  of  you,  and  would  have  called  on  you  to-day  in  re- 
gard to  it,  had  I  not  met  you  here. 

Oliver. 


A  favor  ? 

I  am  about  to 

marry. 

Raymond. 

You! 

Oltveb. 

Yes;  I! 

Raymond. 

Whom? 

Oliver. 

Guess. 

Raymond. 

How  can  I  ? 

Oliver. 

Raymond. 
I  told  you,  at  our  first  interview,  that  on  your  reply  to 
sundry  questions  which  I  proposed  would  hinge  my  destiny  I 
I  am  about  to  marry  Madame  d'Ange. 

Oliver. 
Susan!     [^Becovering  himself .']     The  Baronness  ? 

Raymond. 
Yes! 

Oliver. 
You  are  jesting ! 

Raymond. 
I  assure  you,  I  am  quite  in  earnest. 

Oliver. 
It  was  Madame  d'Ange  who  first  suggested  this  marriage  ? 


88  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Raymond. 
On  the  contrary,  it  was  myself  1 

Oliver. 
Allow  me  to  congratulate  you,  my  friend. 

Raymond. 
This  news  appears  to  astonish  yon ! 

Olivkk. 
I  confess  I  am  confounded !  I  felt  quite  sure,  notwith- 
standing your  assertions  yesterday  to  the  contrary,  that  you 
were  still  in  love  with  Madame  d'Ange.  I  even  imagined 
that  you  had  quitted  the  army  to  be  near  her;  but  I  never 
for  one  moment  supposed  you  contemplated  marrying  her  I 

Raymond. 
'  Why  not  ? 

Oliver. 
Because,  in  my  opinion,  marriage  is  a  serious  matter,  and 
requires  more  reflection  than  you  have  given  it. 

Raymond. 
On  the  contrary,  my  frienid,  I  believe  when  one  meets 
with  happiness,  it  is  wise  to  grasp  it.  I  am  free,  without 
family,  and,  although  thirty-two,  have  never  before  loved. 
Madame  d'Ange  is  free,  a  widow,  a  lady  of  position  as  you 
yourself  have  told  me.  We  love  each  other,  and  are  about 
to  marry.     It  seems  to  me  that  this  is  not  unnatural. 

Oliver. 
Oh,  no  1    When  are  you  to  be  married  ? 

Raymond. 
Immediately.  But  do  not  mention  our  intention,  as  the 
Baronness  desires  the  whole  matter  to  be  strictly  private. 
We  shall  live  in  the  utmost  retirement.  She  even  wished 
that  the  ceremony  should  take  place  far  from  Paris ;  but,  on 
your  account,  I  desired  that  it  should  be  celebrated  here. 


ACT  III.— SCENE  I.  89 

Oliver. 
On  my  account? 

Raymond. 

Yes ;  I  require  a  groomsman,  and  depend  on  you  to  act 
in  that  capacity. 

Oliver. 

That  I  shall  be  a  witness  to  your  marriage  with  the 
Baronness  ?     Impossible  1 

Raymond. 
Do  you  refuse  ? 

Oliver.  , 

I  leave  here  to-morrow  ! 

Raymond, 
You  did  not  tell  me  of  this  before !    What  troubles  you, 
ray  dear  Oliver  ?  you  seem  quite  embarrassed ! 

Oliver. 
I  am  perplexed, 

Raymond. 
Wherefore  ?     Speak  1 

'  Oliver. 

Raymond,  do  you  believe  that  in  an  important  matter  I 
could  fail  to  counsel  you  as  a  true  friend  ? 

Raymond. 

Assuredly  not ! 

Oliver. 
Well,  then,  postpone  this  marriage  ! 

Raymond. 
What  do  you  mean  ? 

Oliver. 
I  mean,  however  much  in  love  a  man  may  be,  it  is  folly 
for  him  to  marry  a  woman  who  is  otherwise  accessible. 

Raymond. 
Oliver,  when  I  informed  you  of  my  love  for  Madame 
d'Ange,  I  probably  forgot  to  mention  that  I  also  esteem  and 
respect  her ! 

8* 


90  'A'HE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Oliver. 
Well,  well,  we  will  drop  the  subject.  Au  revoirl    [  Going.  ] 

Raymond. 
Will  you  not  wait  for  the  Baronness? 


No ;  I  will  return. 

OUVKR. 

Oliver ! 

Raymond. 

• 

Raymond  1 

OuVKR. 

Raymond. 

There  is  something 

on  your  mind ! 

No;  nothing  I 
*rhere  is  1 

OUVKB. 

Raymond. 

OlJVKB. 

Good  heavens,  my  dear  friend,  you  are  such  a  strange  man ! 

Raymond. 
In  what  respect? 

OUVEB. 

There  is  no  way  of  reasoning  with  you.  You  turn  into 
evil  the  good  one  would  do  you ;  at  the  least  touch  you 
take  fire  like  a  rocket.  It  is  discouraging  1  I  thought  it 
my  duty  to  offer  you  some  friendly  advice,  but  you  stop  me 
short  with  one  of  those  cold  curt  replies  which  you  alone 
can  give.  We  Parisians  are  accustomed  to  understand  the 
slightest  hints ;  but  you — 

Raymond. 
My  dear  friend,  the  calling  of  a  soldier  has  not  deprived 
me  of  understanding  and  common  sense.  I  know  that  every 
situation  has  two  phases,  one  serious,  the  other  comic. 
Until  now  I  have  chosen  the  former ;  if  it  be  really  comic, 
and  through  inexperience  I  have  failed  to  perceive  the  fact. 


ACT  III.— SCENE  I.  91 

it  is  both  the  right  and  duty  of  a  friend  to  enlighten  me ;  and 
believe  me,  when  I  discover  my  error,  I  shall  be  the  first  to 
laugh  at  my  own  folly. 

Oliver. 
You  say  this,  but  you  do  not  mean  it  I 

Raymond. 
You  do  not  understand  me.     A  man  is  always  liable  to 
be  deceived.     But  when  he  discovers  the  fact,  the  best  thing 
he  can  do  is  to  make  light  of  it.     All  or  nothing  1  that  is 
my  motto ! 


On  your  honor  ? 
On  my  honor  I 


Oliver. 
Raymond. 


Oliver. 

Well,  then,  my  dear  fiiend,  let  us  make  light  of  this  matter ; 

let  us  laugh  1 

Raymond. 

Then  I  have  been  deceived  ? 

Oliver. 
You  have ! 

Raymond. 
She  does  not  love  me  ? 

Oliver. 
One  moment ;  I  did  not  say  that !     On  the  contrary,  I 
think  she  really  does  love  you.    But,  between  ourselves,  that 
is  no  reason  why  you  should  marry  her.     A  husband,  such 
as  you  would  make,  is  not  to  be  found  every  day. 

Raymond. 
But  the  Baronness  ;  tell  me  about  her,  my  dear  Oliver. 

Oliver. 
Oh  !  that  would  be  a  long  story.     Besides,  I  do  not  like 
to  interfere  with  other  people's  affairs.     All  it  becomes  me 
to  say  is,  that  gentlemen  do  not  marry  women  like  Madame 
d'Ange. 


92  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Bathond. 
Really  ? 

Oliver. 
One  must  be  quite  fresh  from  Africa  to  entertain  such  an 
idea  for  a  moment 

Raymond. 
Ah,  my  friend,  from  what  have  you  saved  me !     I  now 
understand  her  desire  for  secresy,  and  that  our  marriage 
should  take  place  far  from  Paris,  and  also  why  she  bade  me 
beware  of  you ! 

Oliver. 
She  well  knew  that  I  esteem  you  too  much  to  permit  of 
your  taking  this  step  without  warning. 

Ratmond. 
She  is  a  very  adroit  woman  I     Do  you  know  she  has  ob- 
tained an  ascendency  equally  over  my  head  and  heart  ? 

Oliver. 
Yes ;  she  is  indeed  a  seductive  woman.  She  is  as  beauti- 
ful as  witty,  and  far  superior  to  the  women  by  whom  she  is 
surrounded;  otherwise  she  could  never  have  gained  ad- 
mission to  their  circle,  and  there  maintained  the  position  she 
occupies.  Do  not  marry  Susan,  but  love  her ;  she  is  worthy 
of  your  devotion  I 

Raymond. 
You  know  something  on  that  score  ? 

Oliver. 
I  ?     Oh  no  1 

Raymond. 
Oliver,  on  the  first  day  we  met,  it  was  well  enough  to  be 
discreet;  but  now — 

Oliver. 
On  that  day  I  told  you  the  truth  I 

Raymond. 
Come,  come,  Oliver  I 


ACT  III.— SCENE  I.  93 

Oliver. 

On  my  honor  I  You  asked  if  I  was  only  Madame 
d'Ange's  friend?  I  replied  affirmatively;  which  was  true. 
I  was  then  only  her  friend.  I  did  not  know  you  at  the  time. 
You  seemed  to  be  a  ferocious  sort  of  fellow,  anxious  to 
quarrel  with  everybody  I  I  had  no  reason  to  feel  any  deep 
interest  in  you.  I  said  to  myself,  here  is  a  man  enamored 
of  the  Baronness,  and  is,  or  will  become,  her  lover.  He 
will  leave  here  in  a  few  months,  and  will  go  to  the  wars 
again,  happy  in  the  conviction  that  he  has  been  loved  by  a 
lady  of  rank.     A  pleasant  journey  to  him  ! 

But  now,  after  I  have  found  out  your  true  character  and 
learned  to  appreciate  your  frankness  and  the  goodness  of 
your  heart,  you  startle  me  with  the  intelligence  that  you  are 
about  to  give  her  your  name.  The  devil  I  I  exclaim,  but 
this  is  another  affair !  The  matter  becomes  serious,  and 
silence  would  now  be  an  act  of  treason,  for  which  you  would 
some  day  have  the  right  to  reproach  me.  So  I  will  no 
longer  have  any  concealments  from  you ;  between  Madame 
d'Ange  and  myself  affairs  took  their  usual  course ;  you  can- 
not blame  me  ? 

Eaymond. 

Blame  you,  my  dear  friend  1  Are  you  dreaming?  On 
the  contrary,  believe  me,  I  shall  never  forget  the  service  you 
have  rendered  me.     I  no  longer  love  this  woman  ! 

Oliver. 
Of  course,  all  that  I  have  told  you  is  strictly  confidential. 

Raymond. 
Certainly.     But,  now,  how  would  you  advise  me  to  act  ? 

Oliver. 
That,  my  dear  friend,  is  purely  your  own  affair. 

Raymond. 
I  scarcely  know  what  to  do ;  for  this  matter  has  now  gone 


94  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

80  far  that  some  good  reason  or  pretext  is  required  to 
terminate  it. 

Oliver. 
Oh,  at  the  proper  moment  trust  to  inspiration  I     Besides, 
before  the  marriage  takes  place  she  will  be  under  the  ne- 
cessity of  admitting  to  you  her  true  position ;  and  that,  in 
itself,  will  be  sufficient  excuse. 

Raymond. 
What  position  ? 

Olivkr. 
To  be  a  widow,  one  must  have  a  husband — a  dead  husband 
it  is  true  ;  but  a  dead  husband  is  sometimes  more  difficult  to 
secure  than  a  living  one  ! 

Raymond. 
Then  she  is  not  a  widow  ? 

Oliver. 
She  was  never  married. 

Raymond. 

Are  you  sure  ? 

Oliver. 

I  am.  No  one  has  ever  seen  the  Baron  d'Ange.  But  if 
you  wish  positive  information  concerning  her,  call  on  the 
Marquis  de  Thonnerins,  who  is  a  friend  of  your  sister.  He 
knows  the  Baronness  and  her  whole  history.  Do  not  betray 
me.  I  will  now  leave  you,  for  it  is  better  she  should  not 
find  us  together  on  her  return.  She  might  suspect  I  had 
been  enlightening  you. 

Raymond. 
It  is  well.    Then  I  need  not  deliver  your  message  ? 

OUVER. 

What  message  ? 

Raymond. 
Did  you  not  desire  me  to  tell  her  that  you  would  return 
presently  with  what  she  asked  from  you  yesterday  ? 


ACT  III.— SCENE  I.  95 

Oliver. 
Tell  her  nothing ! 

Eaymond. 
What  was  it  she  asked  of  you  ? 

Oliver. 
Some  papers. 

Eaymond. 
My  dear  friend,  give  me  your  whole  confidence.     Admit 
that  those  papers  are  her  letters.     [^A  pause.^     Come,  you 
have  gone  so  far,  you  may  as  well  tell  me  all. 

Oliver. 
Well,  yes  ;  they  are  letters  ! 

Raymond. 
Letters  which  she  has  written  to  you,  and  which,  as  she 
is  about  to  marry  me,  she  desires  to  recover  !     Will  you  do 
me  a  favor  ? 

Oliver. 
What  would  you  have  me  do  ? 

Raymond. 
Prove  that  you  are  really  my  friend  ? 


How? 

Oliver. 

Raymond. 

By  giving  me 

those  letters. 

Impossible  I 

Oliver. 

Why? 

Raymond. 

Oliver. 
A  woman's  letters,  be  she  whom  she  may,  are  sacred, 

Raymond. 
It  is  somewhat  late  to  tell  me  this,  my  dear  Oliver  I 


96  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Oliver. 
Hold,  Raymond ;  I  begin  to  fear  it  was  an  act  of  folly  to 
have  told  you  even  what  I  have.     I  should  have  been  silent. 

Raymond. 
For  what  reason  ? 

Olivbb. 
Because  you  love  Madame  d'Ange  more  than  you  are  will- 
ing to  admit.     Your  late  indifference  waa  assumed  in  order 
to  draw  me  out.    Adieu  I 

Raymond. 
Oliver,  in  the  name  of  our  friendship  I  ask  to  have  those 
letters  from  you. 

Oliver. 
You  ask  an  impossibility.     I  repeat,  it  would  be  an  act 
unworthy  of  a  gentleman.     I  am  astonished  that  you  should 
make  such  a  request  I 

Raymond. 
I  simply  asked  you  for  a  •proof  of  what  you  fold  me. 

Oliver. 
You  are  at  liberty  to  doubt  me  ! 

Raymond. 
Oliver,  I  would  do  for  you  what  I  now  ask  you  to  do 
for  me. 

Oliver. 
On  your  honor? 

Raymond. 
Yes ;  I  swear — [stops  sAorf.  J 

Oliver. 
You  see  I 

Raymond. 
You  are  right  1    Well,  I  will  swear  not  to  open  those 
letters.     Only  give  them  to  me  that  I  may  myself  hand 
them  to  Madame  d'Ange. 


ACT  III.— SCENE  I.  97 

Oliver. 
No! 

Raymond. 
Do  you  doubt  my  word  ? 

Oliver. 

Heaven  forbid ! 

Raymond. 

Nevertheless — 

Oliver. 

Hold,  Raymond;  you  will  never  forgive  me  for  having 
told  you  the  truth.  Yet  no  matter  what  turn  the  affair  may 
take,  I  shall  never  regret  having  done  so,  for  I  simply  fulfilled 
my  duty.  By  silence,  I  necessarily  became  the  accomplice 
of  Madame  d'Ange.  Between  friends,  the  explanation  I 
made  to  you  should  have  sufficed !  You  have  not  con- 
sidered it  properly.  Well,  let  us  forget  that  we  have  ever 
spoken  on  the  subject.  I  came  here  for  the  purpose  of  re- 
turning to  Madame  d'Ange  certain  papers  which,  from  the 
moment  of  her  demanding  them,  became  rightfully  hers. 
Here  they  are,  sealed  and  directed.  Madame  d'Ange  being 
out,  I  place  them  on  this  table,  in  order  that  she  may  find 
them  on  her  return.  For  myself  I  shall  be  back  in  half  an 
hour  to  see  if  they  have  been  received.  Now,  my  dear  Ray- 
mond, you  can  make  the  most  of  the  circumstance ;  I  was, 
and  still  am,  your  friend ;  that  is,  if  you  choose  to  consider 
me  as  such.     Adieu,  or  rather  au  revoir.  \^Exit.^ 

Raymond. 
Oliver  !     £  Takes  up  the  letters.  ]     After  all,  this  woman's 
past  belongs  to  me,  since  I  am  about  to  give  her  my  name ! 
I  will  read  these  letters.    ^Places  the  letters  on  the  mardel.'\ 
He  was  right !     I  cannot  do  it ! 

Enter  Susan. 

SUSAX. 

Was  I  long  absent,  my  friend  ? 
9 


98  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Ratmond. 
No ;  but  I  have  not  been  alone. 

SCSAX. 

Who  has  been  with  you  ? 

Raymoxd. 
Monsieur  de  Jalin. 

SCSAN. 

Why  did  he  not  await  my  return  ? 

Raymond. 
He  had  not  time,  it  seems.  « 

Susan. 
Did  he  promise  to  return  ? 

Raymond. 
In  half  an  hour.     But  where  have  you  been,  my  dear 
Susan  ? 

Susan. 
Oh,  I  have  been  to  numberless  places,  and  am  fearfully 
tired ;  yet  I  do  not  complain,  since  it  was  all  for  your  sake  I 

Raymond. 
For  mine  ? 

SrsAN. 
Yes,  for  your  sake;  as  I  am  to  become  your  wife,  my 
affairs  must  be  set  in  order.    But  what  is  the  matter  ?    Have 
you  changed  your  mind  ? 

Raymond. 
Not  as  yet. 

Susan, 
Is  there  any  likelihood  of  your  doing  so  ? 

Raymond. 
That  depends  upon  you. 

Susan. 
Then  there  is  nothing  to  fear !    You  still  love  me  ? 


ACT  in.— SCENE  I.  99 

Raymond. 
More  than  you  can  conceive  !     But  come,  Susan,  tell  me 
where  you  have  been  ? 

Susan. 
"Well,  I  called  on  my  notary.     My  future  husband  must 
be  informed  of  the  exact  state  of  my  fortune. 

Raymond. 
Let  us  pass  over  that. 

Susan. 
Then  I  went  for  a  copy  of  the  register  of  my  birth ;  you 
see  I  did  not  deceive  you,  I  am  quite  an  old  woman  I 
[^Beading.^  "A  female  child  bom  on  the  4th  of  February, 
1818,  at  eleven  at  night;  daughter  of  Jean  Hyacinthe, 
Count  de  Berwach,  and  Josephine  de  Crousseroles  his  wife." 
You  perceive  I  am  of  noble  birth  !  Well,  this  is  all  that 
remains  of  the  first  two  affections  of  my  heart :  an  almost 
illegible  piece  of  paper,  an  official  act,  cold  and  dry  as  an 
epitaph  on  a  tombstone  1  There  is  my  marriage  contract. 
I  was  not  very  happy  that  day,  dear  Raymond,  for  I  did  not 
love  my  husband,  but  yielded  to  the  wishes  of  my  family. 
I  had  nothing,  however,  with  which  to  reproach  the  Baron ; 
he  was  ever  kind  to  me,  his  escutcheon  was  untarnished, 
and  he  was  the  last  member  of  a  family  whose  name  expired 
with  him.  Finally,  here  is  the  certificate  of  my  husband's 
death ;  which  gives  me  the  right  to  become  your  wife.  You 
see  I  have  been  a  widow  these  eight  years !  Now  that  we 
have  done  with  the  past,  let  us  think  only  of  the  future  ! 

Raymond. 
Will  you  give  me  those  papers  ? 

Susan. 
Certainly.     But  take  care  of  them. 

Raymond. 
Well ;  where  else  have  you  been  ? 


100  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Susan. 

I  called  on  my  guardian,  the  Marquis  de  Thonnerins,  on 
behalf  of  Mademoiselle  de  Sancenaux,  who  begged  me  to 
ask  a  favor  at  his  hands.  He  refused,  which  pains  me  much, 
as  the  poor  child  will  soon  be  here,  expecting  a  favorable 
answer,  and  I  scarcely  know  how  to  communicate  to  her  the 
bad  intelligence. 

Raymond. 

Why  not  write  to  her  ?  It  will  save  you  the  pain  of  a 
verbal  communication. 

SCSAN. 

Oh,  it  is  80  troublesome  to  write  I 

Raymond. 
To  those  we  love  ? 

Susan. 
Oh,  that  is  a  different  matter  1 

Raymond. 
Yet  you  have  never  written  to  me  ? 

Susan. 
But  I  have  seen  you  daily,  so  what  need  of  writing  ? 
.Besides,  you  have  lost  nothing,  for  I  write  atrociously ! 

Raymond. 
Well,  let  us  have  an  example  of  this  atrocious  chirogaphy  1 

Susan. 
If  you  would  only  do  the  amiable  now,  and  write  this 
letter* for  me  to  Marcella  ? 

Raymond. 
It  will  appear  better  for  you  to  wTite  it  yourself. 

Susan. 
Well,  just  as  you  think.     [Tfrites.]     "My  dear  child," 
oh,  what  a  pen  1     "  I  called  on  the  Marquis  as  I  promised 
.  you,  but  our  old  friend,  unfortunately,  is  unwilling  to  grant 


ACT  III— SCENE  I.  101 

your  request. "    [  To  Raymond,  who  has  watched  her  writing 
attentively.']     It  is  almost  illegible,  is  it  not  ?  ,. 

Raymond. 
Almost.     Will  you  give  me  the  commencement  of  this 
letter  ? 

SCSAX. 

For  what  ? 

Raymoxd. 
Give  it  me  !     [^Looks  at  it  closely.']    My  dear  Susan,  I 
forgot  to  mention  that  Monsieur  de  Jalin  left  a  little  package 
for  you. 

Susan. 
Indeed  !     What  does  it  contain  ? 

Raymond. 
Some  letters ! 

Susan. 
What  letters  ? 

Raymond. 
Some  letters  which  you  demanded  of  him  ! 

Susan. 
/  demanded  ? 

Raymond. 
Yes ;  you  1 

Susan. 
Whose  letters  are  they  ? 

Raymond. 
Yours  ? 

SCSAN. 

Mine  !    I  do  not  understand  you ;  where  are  these  letters  ? 

Raymond. 
They  are  here. 

Susan. 
Give  them  to  me  ! 

9* 


102  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Eaymoxd. 
Pardon  me,  my  dear  Susan  ;  will  you  permit  me  to  open 
this  package  ? 

Susan. 
Did  Monsieur  de  Jalin  bring  me  these  letters  ? 

RxifMOXD. 

I  have  already  told  you  so. 

Susan. 
Then  unseal  them ;  read  them  if  you  like ;  for  what  is 
mine  is  yours !  If  you  had  wished  to  look  at  those  letters, 
you  need  not  have  awaited  my  return  to  open  them.  Only, 
after  you  have  looked  at  them,  I  must  beg  of  you  to  explain 
what  all  this  means,  for  I  am  quite  at  a  loss  to  understand  it  1 

Raymoxd. 
I  will  explain  all,  I  promise  you ;  or  rather  we  will  have 
an  explanation.     [  Unseah  the  package,  takes  out  a  letter, 
and   compares   the   hand  with   that  of  Susan^s  note  to 
Marcella.'] 

Susan. 
Well? 

Raymond. 
Susan,  there  is  some  false  play  here  I 

Susan. 
Doubtless !     For  on  my  soul  I  do  not  comprehend  this 
proceeding. 

Raymond. 
Look  at  these  letters  I 

Susan. 
They  are  evidently  written  by  a  lady  I 

Raymond. 
Read  them  I 

Susan. 
\^Reading.']     They  might  readily  pass  for  love-letters, 
they  are  worded  so  tenderly  !     Well  ? 


ACT  III.— SCENE  I.  103 

Raymond. 
You  do  not  know  who  wrote  them  ? 

Susan. 
How  should  I  know  ?     They  have  no  signatures. 

Raymond, 
Then  you  did  not  write  them  ? 

Susan. 
I  write  them !     Are  you  mad  ?     Does  my  penmanship 
resemble  this  ?     I  wish  that  it  did,  for  this  woman  writes 
well. 

Raymond. 
Oliver  seemed  sincere  !     Wherefore  this  base  deception  ? 

Susan? 
What  deception  ?    Pray  explain.    Did  Monsieur  de  Jalin 
say  that  /  wrote  these  letters  ? 

Raymond. 
He  did ! 

Susan. 
Then  Monsieur  de  Jalin  must  have  been  my  lover  ? 

Raymond. 
So  it  would  seem  ? 

Susan. 
He  told  you  so  ? 

Raymond. 
He  gave  me  to  understand  as  much  ! 

Susan. 
What,  after  having  affirmed  to  the  contrary ;  what  means 
this  jest? 

Raymond. 
Monsieur  de  Jalin  was  not  jesting  ! 

Susan. 
No ;  he  was  revenging  himself  for  the  untruth  you  told 
him  yesterday,  and  which  doubtless  he  has  detected.    I  have 


104  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

been  acquainted  with  Monsieur  de  Jalin  even  longer  than 
with  yourself,  and  I  know  him  to  be  incapable  of  such  base- 
ness. He  once  professed  love  for  me  ;  I  have  some  letters 
of  his  that  I  can  show  you.  I  think  he  did  not  wish  me  to 
marry,  since  all  hope  for  him  would  then  have  been  over. 
But  that  he  sought  by  calumniating  me  to  prevent  our 
union — oh  no  !  I  cannot  believe  Monsieur  de  Jalin  capable 
of  such  villany! 

Raymo.vd. 
We  shall  see.     He  and  I  must  have  an  explanation. 
Swear  to  me  that  all  Monsieur  de  Jalin  has  said  is  false ! 

SCSAN. 

An  oath  1     Oh,  this  is  indeed  more  than  a  jest,  or  even  a 
calumny  of  Monsieur  de  Jalin ;  it  is  treason  on  your  part  I 

Raymond. 
Treason  1 

Susan. 
Yes !  You  have  already  regretted  the  engagement  that 
you  made  yesterday;  but  it  would  surely  have  been  more 
honorable  to  have  said  so  frankly,  than  to  have  resorted  to 
such  a  subterfuge  as  this,  which  reflects  far  greater  credit  on 
your  ingenuity  than  on  your  delicacy  1 

Raymond. 
Susan,  you  are  accusing  me  of  a  base  and  cowardly  action  1 

Susan. 
And  pray,  of  what  do  you  accuse  me  ? 

Raymond. 
Monsienr  de  Jalin  will  soon  return ;  we  can  explain  before 
him. 

Susan. 
How  ?     Do  you  require  Monsieur  de  Jalin's  endorsement 
to  believe  in  my  virtue  ?     I  am  to  make  him  say  that  he  has 


ACT  III.— SCENE  I.  105 

never  enjoyed  my  favors,  and  then  you  will  believe  me  1 
Pray  sir,  for  what  do  you  take  me  ?  I  loved  you,  Raymond, 
but,  I  admit,  your  jealous,  suspicious  disposition  alarmed 
me ;  hence  my  hesitation  about  becoming  your  wife.  Still 
I  flattered  myself  that  you  esteemed  and  respected  me.  I 
will  not  inquire  into  this  business  of  to-day ;  you  have  sub- 
jected me  to  a  trial  humiliating  alike  to  my  dignity  and  my 
love.     You  have  doubted  me,  so  all  is  at  an  end  between  us ! 

Raymond. 
But  my  jealousy  was  a  proof  of  my  affection;   for,  O 
Susan,  I  love  you  most  truly ! 

Susan. 
I  do  not  wish  to  be  loved  thus  ! 


I  swear  to  you — 
Enough,  sir ! 
Susan  I 


Raymond. 

Susan. 

Raymond. 

Enter  Servant. 


Servant. 
Mademoiselle  de  Sancenaux  wishes  to  see  Madame. 

Susan. 
Admit  her.  \^Exit  Servant.'] 

Raymond. 
I  will  not  leave  you. 

Enter  Marcella. 
Susan. 
You  are  welcome,  dear  child.     Monsieur  de  Nanjac,  I 
must  beg  that  you  will  excuse  me ;  Mademoiselle  and  myself 
wish  to  have  some  private  conversation. 


106  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Raymond. 
When  shall  I  have  the  honor  of  seeing  you  again  ? 

Susan. 
On  my  return  to  Paris.     I  leave  here  to-night,  and  shall 
admit  no  one  before  my  departure.     [Exit  Raymond,  with 
a  bow.     Susan  rings  a  bell.^ 

Enter  Servant. 

Susan. 
I  To  Servant.'}  If  Monsieur  de  Nanjae  calls  again  to- 
day, say  to  him  that  I  am  not  at  home.  Should  he  insist 
on  entering,  tell  him  that  I  have  forbidden  him  my  house. 
Go !  [Exit  Servant.  To  Marcella.']  I  have  seen  the 
Marquis,  and  have  bad  news  for  you,  my  poor  girl.  Mon- 
sieur de  Thonnerins'feels  great  interest  in  you,  but — 

Marcella. 
He  cannot  grant  my  request  ? 

Susan. 
He  would  gladly  do  so,  but — 

Marcella. 

Worldly  considerations  prevent  1  I  have  reflected  on  the 
matter  since  we  parted,  and  can  readily  understand  his  un- 
willingness to  place  beside  his  daughter  one  who  has  been 
80  peculiarly  reared  and  so  equivocally  situated  as  myself. 
I  thank  you,  dear  Madam,  for  all  your  kindness,  and  must 
beg  you  will  forgive  me  for  having  put  you  to  so  much 
trouble. 

Susan. 

I  wish  I  could  have  succeeded  in  obtaining  for  you  the 
position  you  desired ;  the  Marquis  is  very  fond  of  you,  and 
begged  me  to  say  that  he  would  be  glad  to  serve  you ;  his 
purse  is  at  your  disposal. 


ACT  III.— SCENE  I.  107 

Marcella. 
\^Indignantly.']     I  asked   aid,   not  alms,  at  his   hands. 
\_Weeps.'] 

SUSAX. 

Do  not  despair,  my  poor  child  !  How  do  you  know  but 
the  man  you  love  returns  your  affection,  and  would  marry  you  ? 

Marcella. 
I  love  no  one  ! 

Susan. 
Be  it  so  !    Keep  your  secret  if  you  will,  my  dear  Marcella. 

Marcella. 
Did  I  not  hear  you  say  that  you  intended  to  leave  here 
this  evening  ? 

Susan. 
Yes. 

Marcella. 
Perhaps,  then,  we  may  not  meet  again ;  yet  I  shall  never, 
never  forget  your  kindness  ! 

SuSAX. 

I  will  keep  you  advised  of  ray  movements.  You  will 
write  to  me,  and,  absent  or  present,  I  shall  ever  be  ready  to 
serve  you. 

Marcella. 

Thanks!  thanks!     \^They  embrace.']     Adieu! 

Susan. 
Farewell !     Take  courage  ! 

Enter  Servant. 

Servant. 
Monsieur  Oliver  de  Jalin.  \^ExU  Servant.] 

Enter  Oliver. 

Oliver. 
I  hope  that  I  am  not  driving  you  away,  Mademoiselle  ? 


108  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Marc  ELLA. 
No,  sir ;  I  was  about  to  leave. 

Oliver. 
How  sad  you  now  appear,  Mademoiselle;  has  anything 
gone  wrong  ? 

Marcella. 
Alas !  the  journey  of  life  is  beset  with  thorns  to  those 
who  have  to  pursue  it  alone  1 

Oliver. 
But  not  when  one  has  a  supporting  arm  on  which  to  lean ! 
Am  I  not  your  friend  ?     I  will  call  and  see  you,  and  you 
shall  tell  me  all  your  sorrows. 

Marcella. 
And  you  will  advise  me  1     [  They  shake  hands.     Exit 
Marcella.] 

Susan. 
Dear  me,  how  affecting  !     I  should  really  like  to  see  you 
marry  Mademoiselle  de  Sancenaux,  notwithstanding  all  you 
have  said  against  her  I 

Oliver. 
I  did  not  know  her ;  now  I  understand  and  appreciate  her. 

Susan. 
Which  proves  that  we  should  never  speak  ill  of  any  one  ! 
Apropos,  we  have  a  little  account  of  this  kind  to  settle. 

OlJVKR. 

What  account  1 

Susan. 
Come,  now,  feign  ignorance !     You  advised  Monsieur  de 
Nanjac  not  to  marry  me  ! 

Oliver. 
True  I 

Susan. 
You  informed  him  why  it  would  be  an  act  of  folly  to  do  so  ? 


ACT  III.— SCENE  I.  109 

Oliver. 
I  did! 

Susan. 
You  have  at  least  the  virtue  of  frankness  !    Yet  you  have 
been  guilty  of — what  do  you  call  it  ?     There  is  a  term  for 
this  kind  of  thing  ! 

Oliver. 
A  piece  of  folly ;  is  that  what  you  mean  ? 

Susan. 
No! 

Oliver. 
A  piece  of  infamy  ? 

Susan. 
No ;  not  that.     A — a — 

Oliver. 
A  base,  cowardly  action !     Say  it,  for  the  words  burn  on 
your  lips ! 

Susan. 
That  is  it !     "A  base,  cowardly  action  !" 

Oliver. 
How  so  ? 

Susan. 
Because  a  man  of  honor  keeps  such  matters  to  himself ! 

Oliver. 
Fortunately  for  me,  you  and  I  have  different  notions  of 
honor ! 

Susan. 
And  so  you  imagined  that  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  would  not 
repeat  your  conversation  to  me  ? 

Oliver. 
Jle  promised  me,  on  his  honor,  to  be  silent. 

Susan. 
Yes ;  and  you  promised,  on  your  honor,  to  be  my  friend  1 
10 


110  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Oliver. 
To  be  your  friend,  yes ;  but  not  your  accomplice  I 

SCSAX. 

Accomplice  is  a  hard  word  1     Say,  Oliver — 

Oliveb. 
Well? 

SCSAN. 

Do  yoo  know  all  this  has  turned  to  my  advantage  ? 

Oliver. 
So  much  the  better !     For  I  shall  then  have  done  my  duty 
to  a  friend,  and  at  the  same  time  have  served  you  1 

SUSAX. 

He  is  more  enamored  of  me  than  ever  I 

Oltvkr. 
Indeed ! 

SCSAN. 

Yes ;  so  I  cannot  feel  angry  with  you.  Yet,  how  is  it 
that  a  man  of  your  sense  did  not  perceive  and  avoid  the 
snare  which  I  laid  for  you  ? 

Olivkr. 
The  snare  ? 

SnsAN. 
Yes ;  my  poor  friend  !  You  should  not  attempt  to  out- 
wit a  woman  1  For  do  you  not  know  that  the  most  stupid 
woman  in  the  world,  and  I  am  far  from  being  that  person, 
is  a  thousand  times  shrewder  and  more  adroit  than  the  most 
sensible  man  ?  I  suspected  yesterday,  after  your  conversa- 
tion with  Monsieur  de  Nanjac,  that  our  friendship  would  not 
last  long ;  and  that  as  soon  as  you  became  aware  that  it  was 
a  question  of  marriage,  your  notions  of  delicacy  would  be 
aroused.  It  became  necessary  for  me,  then,  by  a  decisipD 
blow,  to  put  an  end  to  all  calumnies.  I  asked  you  to  bnng 
me  ray  letters  to-day.     Nothing  but  that  would  have  opened 


ACT  III.— SCENE  I.  m 

your  eyes.  Am  I  a  woman  to  require  a  return  of  my  letters  ? 
You,  without  the  faintest  suspicion,  came  here  most  inno- 
cently, this  morning,  with  your  little  letters  in  your  pocket ! 
I  went  out  in  order  that  yourself  and  Monsieur  de  Nanjac 
might  meet  alone.  You  played  the  part  of  an  honorable 
man  most  admirably !  You  informed  Monsieur  de  Nanjac 
of  the  relationship  formerly  existing  between  us,  and  you 
found  the  means  of  leaving  my  letters  within  his  reach. 
I  returned ;  he  had  never  seen  my  writing,  so  he  begged  me 
to  pen  a  few  lines  in  his  presence ;  he  then  compai'ed  the  two 
hands — 

Oliver. 

Eh?    What? 

Susan. 

As  they  did  not  at  all  resemble  each  other,  he  became  con- 
vinced immediately  that  I  was  the  victim  of  calumny  1  He 
consequently  loves  me  more  tenderly  than  ever,  and  has  but 
one  desire,  namely,  to  cut  your  throat !  How  is  it  possible 
to  have  arrived  at  your  time  of  life  without  being  aware 
that  the  most  infallible  means  of  converting  your  best  friend 
into  an  enemy  is  to  speak  ill  of  the  woman  he  loves ;  par- 
ticularly when  you  cannot  prove  your  assertions !  I  bade 
Monsieur  de  Nanjac  farewell,  said  I  would  never  again  see 
him,  that  I  intended  to  leave  Paris  this  very  day, — in  fact 
all  that  an  adroit  woman  could  say.  I  told  him  he  must 
renounce  all  hope  of  having  me  as  his  wife.  In  ten  minutes 
he  will  return  here ;  in  ten  days  we  shall  be  married  !  This 
is  all,  my  dear  Oliver,  that  you  have  accomplished  I 

Oliver. 
You  have,  then,  two  different  styles  of  writing  ? 

Susan. 
No ;  I  have  but  one :  that  is  sufficient. 

Oliver. 
How  is  that  ? 


112  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Susan. 
I  will  tell  yoa ;  for,  after  all,  I  am  an  amiable  woman,  and 
you  are  a  clever  fellow,  whom  I  like.  Know,  then,  that  for 
the  last  ten  years  I  have  been  a  keen  observer,  and  have 
discovered  that  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  women  are  com- 
promised by  their  letters.  Our  epistles  seem  only  written 
to  be  lost  by  those  to  whom  they  are  addressed ;  returned  to 
her  who  has  written  them ;  intercepted  by  the  very  persons 
who  ought  not  to  see  them ;  stolen  by  servants ;  and,  finally, 
exposed  to  the  world  I  It  is  as  dangerous  as  it  is  useless, 
to  write  love-letters  I  Thus  my  observations  led  me  to  re- 
solve that  I  would  never  write  a  compromising  letter,  and 
for  ten  years  past  I  have  kept  my  resolution. 

Oliver. 
Then  the  letters  I  received  from  you — 

SrsAN. 
Were  written  by  Madame  de  Santis,  who  all  day  long  has 
her  pen  in  hand  I  She  was  with  me  during  my  stay  at 
Baden,  and  did  me  the  favor  of  replying  to  all  your  notes, 
which,  by  the  way,  I  scarcely  ever  read  I  She  writes  a  beauti- 
ful, aristocratic,  English  hand ;  so,  my  dear  friend,  you  per- 
ceive that  you  have  been  corresponding  with  Valentina ! 
But  do  not  be  alarmed,  I  will  not  inform  your  friend  Mon- 
sieur de  Richond ;  it  might  produce  ill-feeling  I 

Oliver. 
I  have  nothing  to  say;   you  are  certainly  a  model  of 
intrigue  1 

Susan. 
But  seriously,  why  have  you  treated  me  so  unkindly? 
With  what  can  you  reproach  me  ?  If  Monsieur  de  Nanjac 
had  been  an  old  friend,  the  companion  of  your  boyhood,  or 
a  brother  !  But  no,  you  have  scarcely  known  him  a  week  ! 
Are  you  quite  sure  that  you  have  not  been  guided  in  this 


ACT  III.— SCENE  I.  113 

matter  by  the  evil  counsels  of  your  wounded  self-love? 
That  you  are  not  attached  to  me,  I  well  know ;  but  a  man 
never  forgives  a  woman  for  proving  that  she  is  indifferent  to 
him.  What !  because  you  made  love  to  me,  and  I  was  suffi- 
ciently confiding  to  trust  in  you ;  because  I  imagined  you  a 
chivalrous  man ;  because  I  loved  you,  perhaps,  are  you  to 
throw  yourself  as  an  obstacle  in  my  path  of  life  ?  Have  I 
ever  deceived  you  ?  Let  us  admit,  since  it  is  so,  that  I  am 
not  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  worthy  of  the  name  and  posi- 
tion to  which  I  aspire.  Should  you — you  who  have  con- 
tributed to  render  me  unworthy — should  you  raise  obstacles 
to  prevent  my  leading  an  honorable  life  ?  No,  no,  my  dear 
Oliver,  this  is  not  just ;  my  weakness,  by  which  you  profited, 
should  never  be  used  by  you  as  a  weapon  against  me  !  The 
man  who  has  been  loved  by  a  woman,  however  slightly, 
from  purely  disinterested  motives,  is  forever  that  woman's 
debtor,  and  he  can  never  do  too  much  for  her  in  return  ! 

Oliver. 
You  are  right !  Perhaps  I  mistook  the  voice  of  jealousy 
for  that  of  honor ;  nevertheless,  in  my  place  any  gentleman 
would  have  done  the  same.  On  Raymond's  account  I  was 
right  in  speaking.  On  yours,  I  should  have  held  my  tongue. 
There  is  great  truth  in  the  Arabian  proverb,  that  "  Speech  is 
silver,  but  silence  is  gold." 

SUSAX. 

I  am  rejoiced  to  find  you  so  reasonable,  now — 

Oliver. 
Well,  what  now  ? 

Unter  Servant. 

SUSAX. 

[  To  Oliver.^  Nothing  !     [  To  Servant.^  What  is  it  ? 

Servant. 
Monsieur  de  Nanjac  wishes  to  see  Madame. 
10* 


114  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Sdsan. 
I  have  already  giren  my  orders. 

Servant. 
He  insisted  upon  seeing  the  Baronness.     I  replied  that 
Madame  did  not  receive  to-day.     He  desired  me  to  ascertain 
if  Monsieur  de  Jalln  were  here,  and  if  so,  to  beg  Madame 
to  admit  him. 

Susan. 
Desire  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  to  enter. 

Oliver. 
Do  yon  intend  receiving  him  ? 

SCSAN. 

No ;  I  will  leave  you  to  do  that,  and  to  say  to  him  what- 
ever you  think  proper, — ^bearing  in  mind  always  that  he 
loves  me  and  that  I  love  him,  and  what  I  will,  I  will  1  So 
au  revoir,  my  dear  Oliver  !  [j&ari/.] 

Oliver. 
Would  that  this  scene  were  over  I 

Enter  Raymond. 
Oliver. 
You  wish  to  see  me,  my  dear  Raymond  ?     We  are  alone, 
and  I  am  «11  attention. 

Rathoxd. 
I  cannot  quite  forget  that  I  once  called  you  friend,  Oliver ; 
and  yet — 

Oliver. 


Well? 

Yon  deceived  me ! 

No ;  I  did  not  1 


Raymond. 
Oliver. 


Rayxtond. 

Listen  to  me,  Oliver ;  Madame  d'Ange  has  proved  to  me 
the  falsity  of  all  that  you  told  me.    You  affirmed  that  she  was 


ACT  III.— SCENE  I.  115 

never  married;  I  have  seen  her  marriage  certificate;  yes, 
seen  it  with  my  own  eyes  !  Will  you  tell  me  the  paper  was 
forged  ? 

Oliver. 
No! 

Raymond. 
You  assured  me  she  was  not  a  widow ;  I  have  seen  the 
certificate  of  hei*  husband's  death  !     Do  you  pretend  that 
this  is  an  invention  ? 

Oliver. 
No! 

Raymond. 
I  have  just  parted  with  the  Marquis  de  Thonnerins,  who,  in 
reply  to  my  questions  concerning  the  Baronness,  assured  me 
that  he  knew  nothing  about  her.     Finally,  the  letters  which 
you  pretended  to  have  received  from  Madame  d'Ange — 

Oliver. 
Were  not  from  her,  as  I  am  now  aware.  They  were  sent 
to  me  by  a  friend  of  hers,  who  gave  me  to  understand  they 
were  from  the  Baronness ;  instead  of  which  both  ladies  were 
amusing  themselves  at  my  expense  !  I  have  been  deceived. 
I  thought  I  possessed  the  right  to  warn  you,  when  in  fact  I 
did  not ;  and  in  my  desire  to  manifest  my  friendship  for  you, 
I  have  only  proved  myself  a  fool ! 

Raymond. 
Then  you  retract  all  that  you  have  said  ? 

Oliver. 
All !  She  is  of  good  family ;  she  has  been  married ;  is  a 
Baronness ;  a  widow ;  she  loves  you ;  our  intimacy  has  never 
been  criminal ;  she  is  worthy  of  you :  whoever  affirms  to  the 
contrary  is  a  calumniator,  for  he  who  says  what  he  cannot 
prove  must  come  under  this  designation  !  Adieu !  for  after 
what  has  happened  I  can  never  present  myself  before  the 
Baronness,  unless  she  invites  me  to  her  house,  which  she  is 


116  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

not  likely  to  do.     As  for  you,  Raymond,  do  not  accuse  me  of 
anything  worse  than  credulity  and  awkwardness  !    Farewell  1 

Batuond. 
Adieu !  [Exit  Oliver.] 

Enter  Servant. 

Servant. 
Is  Monsieur  aware  that  the  Baronness  is  pot  at  home,  and 
that  she  will  not  soon  return  ? 

Rathond. 
Never  mind ;  I  will  wait  for  her. 


END  OF  THIRD  AOT. 


ACT    FOURTH. 

Drawing- Roofm  at. Madame  d'Ange's. 

\^Susan  iieated.'\ 

Enter  Servant. 

Skrvant. 
Monsieur,  the  Marquis  de  Thonnerins.  \^E3cit.'] 

Enter  Marquis. 

Marquis. 
Good-day,  Baronuess ! 

Susan. 
To  what  do  I  owe  the  pleasure  of  this  visit,  my  dear 
Marquis  ? 

Marquis. 
I  called,  Susan,  to  ascertain  if  my  notary  has  sent  you  all 
the  papers  which  you  required  ? 

Susan. 
All ;  many  thanks  ! 

Marquis. 
And  then  I  wished  to  learn  how  you  are  getting  on. 


Oh,  very  well ! 
And  your  marriage  ? 

Susan. 
Mabquis, 

My  marriage  ! 

Susan. 

Marquis. 
Yes ;  when  is  it  to  take  place  ? 

117 


118  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

SUSAX. 

True  1  true  !     I  have  not  seen  you  for  a  long  time  ;  you 
have  not  heard,  then — 

Marquis. 
Nothing  1 

SCSAN. 

You  were  right,  Marquis.     I  was  too  ambitious ;  it  was 
an  impossibility ! 

Marquis. 


Tell  me  all  about  it 
I  was  betrayed  I 
By  whom  ? 


Susan. 
Marquis. 


Susan. 
By  one  in  whom  I  reposed  too  much  confidence ;  by  Mon- 
sieur de  Jalin ! 

Marquis. 
Then  he  informed  Monsieur  de  Nanjac — 

Susan. 
Ah  !     You  know  his  name  ? 

Marquis. 
Ah,  yes  I     And  what  course  did   Monsieur  de   Nanjac 
pursue  ? 

Susan. 
He  first  believed  De  Jalin,  but,  loving  me,  ended  by  be- 
lieving me. 

Marquis. 
And  now  ? 

Susan. 
He  still  loves  me,  no  longer  confidingly,  but  jealously ;  and 
pursues  a  constant  system  of  suspicion  and  surveillance ; 
while,  for  myself,  I  must  confess  that  I  have  no  longer  the 
courage  to  accept  that  life  to  reach  which  was  once  my 
highest  ambition.     To  live  in  continual  fear  that  the  past. 


ACT  IV.— SCENE  I.  119 

like  a  tottering  wall,  may  at  any  moment  fall  upon  and  crush 
me ;  to  devise  every  morning  the  falsehood  which  I  shall  be 
forced  before  night  to  deny,  and  in  the  midst  of  this  to  love 
purely  and  sincerely, — I  repeat,  the  thing  is  impossible,  and 
I  have,  in  this  fearful  struggle,  not  only  exhausted  my 
strength  and  courage,  but  also  my  love ;  for  I  am  no  longer 
attached  to  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  I 

Mahquis. 
Is  this  really  true,  Susan  ? 

SCSAX. 

You  are  one  whom  I  never  deceive  ! 

Marquis. 
You  do  not  love  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  ? 

SUSAX. 

I  love  no  one  ! 

Marquis. 
Then  your  marriage  will  not  take  place  ? 

SUSAK. 

No ;  I  will  retain  my  liberty ;  I  will  retire  to  Italy :  there 
no  one  inquires  minutely  into  a  woman's  antecedents ;  pro- 
vided she  is  pretty,  has  means,  and  entertains  well,  she  is 
believed.  I  will  buy  a  chateau  on  the  Lake  of  Como,  pink 
myself  out  in  white  and  red,  like  Madame  de  Santis ;  sail 
on  the  lake  by  starlight,  write  poems  a  la  Byron,  carry 
myself  like  a  lady  of  respectability,  receive  and  patronize 
artists,  and  wind  up,  if  nothing  else  will  satisfy  me,  by 
marrying  some  mined  adventurer,  some  counterfeit  Italian 
prince,  who  will  squander  my  fortune  while  he  keeps  a  danc- 
ing girl !    Have  I  not  taken  a  rational  view  of  my  position  ? 

Marquis. 
When  do  you  set  out  ? 

Susax. 
In  three  or  four  days. 


120  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Marqcis. 


SUSAH. 


Alone  ? 

With  my  maid. 

Marquis. 
And  De  Nanjac  is  ignorant  of  your  proposed  departure  ? 

Susan. 
Entirely  1 

Marquis. 
And  you  do  not  intend  informing  him  where  you  are  going? 

Susan. 
If  I  any  longer  desired  to  see  him,  it  would  certainly  be 
easier  to  remain  in  Paris.     If  I  leave  here,  on  the  contrary, 
it  is  for  the  purpose  of  putting  an  end  to  all  communication 
between  us. 

Marquis. 
Well ;  I  applaud  your  resolution,  and  am  rejoiced  to  find 
that  your  good  sense  induces  you  to  take  a  step  which, 
sooner  or  later,  necessity  would  have  forced  upon  you. 

Susan. 
I  do  not  understand  you ! 

Marquis. 
Fortune  is  a  busybody,  who  meddles  in  aflairs  which  least 
concern  her ;  chance  made  Monsieur  de  Nanjac's  sister  and 
mine  bosom  friends ;  to  that  sister  De  Nanjac  spoke  of  his 
approaching  marriage,  and  she  in  turn  mentioned  it  to  mine, 
and  thus  I  learned  the  name  which  I  was  unwilling  you 
should  give  me.  This  is  not  all :  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  him- 
self called  upon  me  to  inquire  concerning  you.  I  gave  him 
no  information,  preferring  to  allow  you  to  get  out  of  this 
embarrassing  situation  with  the  honors  of  war.  I  called  to- 
day to  repeat  what  I  once  before  said  to  you,  that  should  I 
become  acquainted  with  the  man  you  are  about  to  marry,  I 
should  feel  in  duty  bound  to  tell  him  the  truth.     I  have 


ACT  IV.— SCENE  I.  121 

waited  several  days,  and,  it  seems,  did  well ;  since  you  have 
already  resolved  that  the  marriage  shall  not  take  place. 
All  is  for  the  best,  if  you  are  really  sincere. 

m 
Susan. 

I  am  !  To-morrow  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  will  be  free,  and 
you  can,  if  you  like,  obtain  him  as  a  husband  for  your 
daughter  I 

Marquis. 

My  daughter,  let  me  remind  you,  Susan,  has  nothing  to 
do  with  this  matter.  Farewell  I  I  hope  you  may  be  happy. 
But  remember,  Baronness,  remember!  \_Going.'\ 

Susan. 
Fear  not ;  I  never  forget  I 

Enter  Yalentina. 

\_Marquis  bows,  and  retires.^ 

Valentina. 
Was  not  that  gentleman  the  Marquis  de  Thonnerins  ? 

Susan. 
Yes.     But  where  are  you  going  in  that  dress  ? 

Yalentina. 


Susan. 

Yalentina. 

Susan. 


On  a  jotimey. 

When? 

In  an  hour  1 

Where  ? 

Yalentina, 
To  London ;  thence  to  Belgium  and  Germany. 

• 

Susan. 
Alone  ? 

Yalentina. 
No ;  I  have  a  companion. 

11 


122  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

SCSAN. 

How  about  your  lawsuit  ? 

Valenttna. 
I  shall  discontinue  it.     The  matter  was  brought  before  a 
referee.     I  lost !     The  judge  advised  me,  after  I  had  repre- 
sented my  wrongs  to  him,  not  to  interfere  with  my  husband. 

ScSAN. 

It  is  a  long  time  since  I  have  seen  yoo. 

Valentina. 
I  have  been  busy  disposing  of  my  furniture  and  arrangmg 
my  affairs,  prior  to  my  departure. 

ScSAN. 

You  might  have  found  time  to  have  given  the  informa- 
tion I  desired  1 

Valentina. 
I  torote  to  you  the  result ;  did  you  not  receive  my  letter  ? 

SCSAK. 

Yes;  but — 

Valentina. 
Well,  I  called  to-day  to  explain  everything. 

Susan. 
I  am  all  attention. 

Valentina. 
I  wrote  to  Madame  de  Lornan  an  anonymous  letter. 

SUSAX. 

Well? 

Valentina. 

I  took  care  to  disguise,  my  hand.  In  that  letter  I  told 
her  that  a  lady  who  was  interested  in  her  requested  an  in- 
terview. I  gave  her  to  understand  that  it  referred  to  Mon- 
sieur de  Jalin,  begged  her  to  be  discreet  and  to  meet  me 
night  before  last 


ACT  IV.— SCENE  I.  123 

Susan. 
Well,  she  came  ? 

"Valentina. 
Yes ;  accompanied  by  a  woman,  who  kept  at  a  short  dis- 
tance from  us,  so  that  we  might  converse  undisturbed.  We 
met  at  the  Tuilleries ;  it  was  dark,  and  I  was  veiled,  conse- 
quently it  was  impossible  to  see  my  face.  But  I  saw  hers. 
She  is  very  beautiful ! 

Susan. 
What  did  you  tell  her  ? 

Yalentina. 
Exactly  what  we  had  determined  upon.  That  Oliver  was 
deceiving  her,  and  was  in  love  with  and  about  to  marry 
Mademoiselle  de  Sanceneaux — a  disgraced  woman,  wholly 
unworthy  of  his  hand.  I  pretended  to  think  that  she  enter- 
tained only  feelings  of  friendship  for  Oliver ;  in  fact,  she  is 
only  his  friend.     But  she  loves  him  devotedly,  and  is  jealous. 

Susan. 
Did  you  mention  me  ? 

Yalentina. 
She  spoke  of  you,  I  told  her  that  I  knew  you,  and  that 
it  was  only  by  consulting  with  you,  that  she  could  prevent 
the  misfortune  of  such  a  marriage.  She  hesitated  long,  but 
at  mention  of  saving  Monsieur  de  Jalin  from  such  a  fate, 
she  promised  to  call  here  at  two  o'clock,  on  condition  that 
you  would  receive  her  alone.  This  poor  woman  is  quite 
beside  herself!  Who  would  ever  imagine  De  Jalin  capable 
of  inspiring  such  affection  ?  By  the  way,  have  you  heard 
from  him  ? 

Susan. 


Whom? 
Why,  De  Jalin. 
Yes. 


Yalentina. 

Susan. 


124  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Valentina. 
On  what  terms  is  he  with  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  ? 

Susan. 
They  do  not  speak. 

Valkntina. 
Yet  Oliver  visited  you  ? 

Susan. 
No ;  he  only  wrote  to  me. 

Valkntina. 
About  what  ? 

Susan. 
Oh,  his  letter  was  quite  incomprehensible.     He  says  he 
loves  me,  and  that  if  he  endeavored  to  prevent  my  mar- 
riage, it  was  on  that  account. 

Valentina. 
Perhaps  it  may  be  true  1 

Susan. 
Perhaps ;  who  knows  ?    But  it  may  be  all  deception,  for 
he  begs  me  to  grant  him  an  interview  at  his  house,  as  he 
says  there  are  things  he  cannot  explain  here. 

Valentina. 
In  truth,  that  looks  like  a  snare  ! 

Susan. 
Yet  I  am  quite  sure  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  and  himself  are 
not  even  on  speaking  terms. 

Valentina. 
Oh,  if  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  would  only  put  a  bullet 
through  him,  to  teach  him  not  to  meddle  with  what  does 
not  concern  him  !     I  hate,  I  detest  this  Oliver  1     He  it  was 
who  prejudiced  Hippolyte  against  me  1 

Susan. 
Fear  not !  "We  will  both  have  our  revenge ;  for,  to  forgive 
an  injury,  is  to  draw  on  ourselves  a  repetition  of  it  1     Mon- 


ACT  IV.— SCENE  I.  125 

sieur  de  Jalin,  among  other  things,  told  De  Nanjac  that 
respectable  ladies  never  frequented  oar  society.  He  shall 
find  Madame  de  Loman  here  to-day,  which  will  doubtless 
modify  his  opinion. 

Yalentina. 
He  is  coming  here,  then  ? 

Susan. 
Yes. 

Valentina. 
He  will  be  furious  !     Suppose  he  should  further  expose 
you  ? 

Scsan. 
I  have  no  fears  !     "When  he  utters  the  first  word  against 
me,  De  Nanjac  will  challenge  him,  and  administer  a  lesson 
which  will  teach  him  the  virtue  of  silence  for  the  future. 

Yalextina. 
I  would  give  the  world  to  see  this  !  But  I  must  leave  ; 
so  farewell !  Write  to  me  in  London,  under  the  name  of 
Mademoiselle  Rose,  as  I  do  not  wish  my  husband  to  know 
of  my  whereabouts.  Adieu  !  It  seems  so  strange  to  leave 
Paris,  the  only  spot  in  the  world  where  one  can  find  amuse- 
ment ;  but  since  it  must  be  so,  again  farewell !  {_Exit.^ 

Enter  Raymond. 

Susan. 
lAside-l     There  is  another  to  whom  I  will  never  speak 
after  my  marriage  1     [To  Raymond.'\     How  impatient  I 
have  been  to  see  you  ! 

Raymond. 
All  is  ready. 

Susan. 
And  the  marriage  contract  ? 

Raymond. 
To-morrow  we  shall  sign  it. 
11* 


126  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Susan. 
When  are  we  to  set  out  ? 

Raymond. 
Whenever  you  wish. 

Susan. 
Then  you  love  me  as  fondly  as  ever  ? 

Raymond. 
Indeed,  yes  1    And  you,  Susan  ? 

Susan. 
Can  you  ask  ?    Have  I  not  proved  my  affection  ?    I  love 
you  with  my  whole  soul  1 

Raymond. 
But  tell  mc, — have  you  seen  Monsieur  de  Jalin  ? 

Susan. 
No  1    Why  do  you  ask  ? 

Raymond. 
Because  I  met  him  walking  this  way  with  his  friend  Mon- 
sieur Richond. 

Susan. 
He  is  coming  here. 

Raymond. 
I  thought  you  promised  never  again  to  receive  him  ? 

Susan. 
He  wrote  to  me  that  he  had  something  to  communicate. 
I  shall  receive  him  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  and  I  advise 
you  to  do  the  same. 

Raymond. 
Well  1    But  first  go  and  give  the  final  orders  for  our  wed- 
ding to-morrow.     I  desire  to  have  our  marriage  publicly 
announced  to  all  of  our  friends,  including  Monsieur  de 
Jalin.     When  he  calls  to-day  I  wish  to  be  the  first  to  re- 


ACT  IV.— SCENE  I.  127 

ceive  him,  as  I  want  him  to  understand  my  rights  in  your 
house.     Go,  my  love  !     I  will  join  you  immediately. 

\_Exit  Susan.] 
Enter  Servant. 

Servant. 
Monsieurs  De  Jalin  and  Richond.  {^Exif] 

Enter  Hippolyte  and  Oliver. 

Raymond, 
\_Bowing.']     Gentlemen  1 

Oliver, 
How  are  you,  Raymond? 

Eaymond. 
Well,  thank  you  1 

Oliver. 
Is  the  Baronness  visible  ? 

Raymond. 
She  desired  me  to  ask  you  to  wait,  and  to  say  that  she 
will  be  with  you  presently.  \^Bows,  and  Exit.'] 

Oliver. 
Do  you  see  how  coldly  he  treats  me  ? 

Hippolyte. 
Yes,  But  in  coming  here  you  had  no  reason  to  expect 
any  other  reception.  You  had  got  through  with  this 
matter.  Why  did  you  come  here  again  ?  You  had  already 
done  your  duty.  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  is  determined  to 
marry  this  woman,  in  spite  of  your  warning.  Well,  let  him 
do  so ;  it  is  not  an  affair  of  yours  1 

Oliver, 
You  are  half  right!     I  had  resolved  to  interfere  no 
further,  but  Susan  has  provoked  me  anew, 

HlPPOLVTE. 

How? 


128  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Oliver. 
Your  wife  wrote  an  anonymous  letter  to  Madame  de 
Lornan. 

HiPPOLYTK. 

My  wife  ? 

Oliver. 

Yes :  the  hand  was  disguised,  but  I  recognized  it.  This 
letter  requested  an  interview  with  Madame  de  Lornan,  and 
was  shown  to  me  by  her  former  governess,  who  knows  the 
interest  I  feel  in  Charlotte,  although  she  still  refuses  to 
admit  me  to  her  presence.  Susan  is  at  the  bottom  of  all 
this ;  but  let  her  beware !  If  my  suspicions  be  correct,  if 
she  be  plotting  against  Madame  de  Lornan,  I  will,  this 
time,  by  some  means  or  other,  put  an  effectual  stop  to  her 
marriage  I 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Ought  I  not  to  have  my  wife  arrested  ?  She  may  attack 
me  with  impunity,  but  she  shall  not  attempt  to  injure  others ! 

Oliver. 
No ;  I  will  unravel  the  scheme.  When  I  learned  of  this 
letter  to  Madame  de  Lornan,  I  wrote  to  Susan  requesting 
an  interview,  and  she  appointed  to-day,  at  this  hour.  Let 
me  throw  out  my  line ;  keep  quiet,  and  I  promise  you  that 
she  will  bite  in  less  than  an  hour. 

Enter  Countess. 
Countess. 
[^Greatly  agitated.'}    Where  is  the  Baronnesa ? 

Oliver. 
Why,  what  is  the  matter,  my  dear  Countess  ?    You  seem 
annoyed ! 

Countess. 
I  am  provoked  beyond  measure !    [^Drawing  Oliver  aside. 
To  Hippolyte.}     Pardon  me,  sirl      [To  Oliver.}    What 
do  you  think  Marcclla  has  done  ? 


ACT  IV.— SCENE  L  129 

Oliver. 
She  frankly  told  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  that  she  did  not 
wish  to  marry  him  1 

Countess. 
Yesl 

Oliver. 
Because  she  does  not  love  him ! 

Countess. 
A  fine  reason !    But  would  you  believe  it,  on  entering 
Marcella's  chamber  this  morning,  I  found  that  she  had  gone  I 

Oliveb. 
But  she  left  a  letter — 

Countess. 
Yes;  in  which  she  says  that  she  will  no  longer  be  a 
burden  to  me;  but  that  I  need  fear  nothing,  and  that  I 
shall  never  have  cause  to  blush  for  her  conduct. 

Oliver. 
She  wrote  to  you  that  she  was  about  to  return  to  the  con- 
vent in  which  she  was  educated  ? 

Countess. 
You  have  seen  her,  then  ? 

Oliver. 
I  have  just  left  her. 

Countess. 
Where  ? 

Oliver. 
At  the  convent.     I  advised  her  to  return  there. 

Countess. 
You  are  very  busy!     Then  it  was  you,  doubtless,  who 
also  advised  her  to  quit  Paris  ? 

Oliver. 
Exactly!     She  leaves  to-morrow.     Her  former  teacher 
has  procured  her  a  situation. 


130  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Countess. 
A  situation  ? 

Oliver. 
Yes ;  at  Besan9on,  in  a  most  respectable  family.  Ma- 
demoiselle de  Sanceneaox  will  teach  English  and  masic  at 
a  salary  of  eight  hundred  francs  a  year.  It  will  not  be  very 
amusing,  to  be  sure ;  but  she  considers  it  more  honorable 
than  to  remain  in  Paris,  to  be  used  as  a  decoy,  to  play  at 
cards  and  be  compromised  I    I  perfectly  agree  with  her  I 

Countess. 
Bidiculons !  I  shall  write  to  her  to  change  her  name. 
A  Sancenaux,  the  daughter  of  my  brother,  thus  to  disgrace 
her  family !  A  Sancenaux,  a  governess  1  Oh,  dreadful ! 
She  will  never  get  a  husband  after  so  scandalous  a  pro- 
ceeding ! 

OUVEK. 

She  will  find  it  easier  to  get  a  husband  now,  than  when 
under  your  charge. 

Countess. 

We  shall  see  1     I  have  done  my  utmost  to  make  a  lady 
'of  her  1     Thank  heaven,  she  is  only  my  niece,  after  all ! 

Enter  Susan.  * 

Susan. 
Good  day,  Countess  I 

Countess. 
Good  day,  my  dear  child  1 

Susan. 
Why,  what  disturbs  you  ? 

Countess. 
I  will  tell  you  another  time ;  I  called  to  return  the  amount 
of  money  which  you  so  kindly  lent  me. 

Susan. 
There  was  no  need  of  haste. 


ACT  IV.— SCENE  I.  131 

Countess. 
Many  thanks  I     I  no  longer  needed  it. 

Susan. 
[^To  Hippolyte.']    You  are  very  kind,  sir,  to  have  made 
me  this  visit  with  Monsieur  de  Jalin. 

Hippolyte. 
I  feared  that  I  might  be  intruding,  Madame,  but  Oliver — 

Susan. 
Monsieur  de  Jalin's  friends  are  also  mine  I 

Hippolyte. 
Thanks,  Madame ! 

Susan. 
[  To  Oliver. '\    Well,  what  have  you  to  communicate  ? 

Oliver. 
I  wrote  you — 

Susan. 
Yes ;  that  you  loved  me — 

Oliver. 
I  do  love  youl 

Susan. 
And  by  that  means  sought  to  decoy  me  to  your  house,  in 
order  that  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  might  be  previously  informed, 
and  see  me  enter  !  Why,  Oliver,  this  is  mere  child's  play ! 
You  are  doing  battle  with  wooden  guns  and  blank  car- 
tridges !     Is  it  thus  you  expect  to  overcome  me  ? 

Oliver. 
Then  you  do  not  believe  in  my  love  ? 

Susan. 
Nol 

Oliver. 
It  is  well !     Adieu  ! 

Susan. 
Remaiu  !     I  have  something  to  show  you. 


132  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Oliver. 
What? 

SOSAN. 

I  cannot  tell  you ;  it  is  a  surprise  !  [^During  the  above 
conversation  Raymond  enters  and  converses  vriih  Countess 
and  Eippolyte.'] 

Susan. 
[^Raising  her  voice.']    My  dear  Countess,  you  are  ac- 
quainted with  Madame  de  Lornan,  are  yon  not  ? 

CotJNTESS. 

I  once  knew  her;  but  we  have  lately  lost  sight  of  each 
other. 

Susan. 
I  believe  she  is  called  very  virtuous  ? 

Countess. 
She  is  a  proverb  of  propriety. 

SCSAN. 

And  very  particular  in  the  choice  of  her  associates  ? 

Countess. 
Veryl 

Susan. 
I  expect  her  here,  and  will  introduce  you  to  her.  Mon- 
sieur de  Nanjac.    You  will  find  her  a  most  charming  person  I 

Oliver. 
Provided  she  comes  I 

Scsan. 
Ah  1  true,  true  I    You  are  well  acquainted  with  Madame 
de  Lornan,  I  believe.  Monsieur  de  Jalin  ? 

Oliver. 
It  is  for  that  very  reason  that  I  will  engage  she  will  not 
be  here  1 

Susan. 
What  will  you  wager  ? 


ACT  IV.— SCENE  I.  133 

Oliver. 
A  bouquet,  or  a  paper  of  candies,  which  are  the  only 
things  a  lady  can  wager. 

Susan. 
I  accept  1 

Enter  Servant. 

Susan. 
{^Pereeiving  Servanf]    And  I  fancy  I  shall  win  imme- 
diately 1     ITo  Servant.']    Well? 

Servant. 
A  lady  wishes  to  see  the  Baronness. 

Susan. 
Her  name  ? 

Servant. 
She  did  not  give  it,  Madame. 

Susan. 
Tell  the  lady,  to  gain  admission  to  my  house  she  must 
first  send  up  her  name.  \_EotM  Servant.'] 

Oliver. 
{^Aside  to  Raymond.]    In  the  name  of  our  former  friend- 
ship, Raymond,  prevent  Madame  de  Lornan  from  entering 
here  1 

Raymond. 
Pray,  why? 

Oliver. 
Because  much  trouble  may  arise  from  her  visit. 

Raymond. 
Trouble  !     To  whom  ? 

Oliver. 
To  many. 

Raymond. 
I  have  not,  as  yet,  the  right  to  issue  orders  in  Madame 
d'Ange's  house.     She  receives  whoever  she  pleases. 

12 


134  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 


Be-enter  Seevant. 

Servant. 
Madame  de  Lornan  desires  to  see  the  Baronness. 

Admit  her ! 
Unfortunate 

Susan. 

Oliveb. 
woman ! 

[Exit  Servant. 
IBushes  ovt. 

■] 
] 

HiPPOLYTB. 

Heaven  grant  that  you  may  not  regret  this,  Madame  I 

Susan. 

I  have  never  yet  regretted  anything  1  [  To  Raymond, 
who  is  about  to  leave.']  Remain  here  1  Monsieur  de  Jalin 
has  gone  to  offer  his  arm  to  Madame  de  Lornan.  He  has 
lost  his  wager  1 

[JRat/mond  goes  to  the  door,  which  is  opehed  by  Oliver.'] 

Rathond. 
What  have  you  done,  sir  ? 

Olivkr. 
I  have  desired  Madame  de  Lornan  not  to  enter  here ! 

Katmond. 
By  what  right? 

Oliver. 
By  the  right  which  every  gentleman  possesses, — to  pre- 
vent a  lady  from  taking  a  step  which  would  forever  dis- 
grace her ! 

Susan. 
Particularly  when  the  lady  happens  to  be  the  mistress  of 
this  honorable  gentle^pan  I 

Oliver. 
It  is  false,  Madame  I 

Raymond. 
Sir,  yon  insult  a  lady ! 


ACT  IV.— SCENE  I.  135 

Oliver. 
For  the  last  week,  Monsieur  de  Nanjac,  you  have  been 
endeavoring  to  seek  a  quarrel  with  me.     I  called  here  to- 
day for  the  purpose  of  affording  you  an  opportunity !     I 
am  at  your  service  ! 

Raymond. 
In  an  hour  my  friends  will  call  upon  you. 

l^About  to  go  out.'] 
Susan. 
Raymond  I 

Raymond. 
I  will  shortly  return,  Susan.  lExit.J 

Oliver. 

Susan,  you  have  caused  a  quarrel  between  two  men  both 

of  whom  love  you  !    God  only  knows  how  this  will  terminate  1 

Come,  Hippolyte.  [^Exit  with  Hippolyte.'] 

Countess. 

What  does  all  this  mean,  my  child  ? 

Susan. 
I  know  not,  my  dear  Countess  1 

Countess. 
But  you  will  prevent  this  duel  ? 

Susan. 

Yes,  I  must  do  so  ;  I  have  accomplished  tasks  much  more 

difficult. 

.    Countess. 

Can  I  serve  you  in  any  way  ? 

Susan. 
Many  thanks,  no  1 

Countess. 
Au  revoir  then.     \^Aside.']    What  is  the  meaning  of  all 
this?  [Exit.'} 

Susan. 
Decidedly,  Oliver  has  more  courage  than  I  supposed ! 


136  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Enter  Sebvant. 

Servant,  . 

A  letter  for  Madame.  {^Hands  it.'] 

Susan. 

It  is  well.  \^0pen8  letter.']  From  the  Marquis  1  [^Reads.] 
"You  have  deceived  me;  you  continue  to  receive  Mon- 
sieur de  Nanjac.  In  spite  of  my  prohibition,  you  are  about 
to  marry  him.  I  give  you  one  hour  to  terminate  this  affair. 
If  during  that  time  you  fail  to  do  so,  I  will  myself  inform 
him  of  all  1"  Oh,  the  past,  the  hateful  past  I  Its  spectres 
rise  constantly  before  me  1  I  can  never  escape  ita  dreadful 
recollections  I  Publish  my  own  shame  1  Never  1  I  will 
sooner  die  in  the  contest !  But  now  the  important  point  is 
to  gain  time  !  \^Writes,  and  speaks  to  the  Servant  while 
writing.'}  You  will  go  to  the  Marquis  de  Thonnerins  and 
hand  him  this  letter.     Shut  that  door ! 

Servant. 
[^About  to  close  it,  when  Raymond  appears.]    Madame, 
here  is  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  ! 

Enter  Raymond. 

SnsAK. 
[^Deliberately  closing  her  desk.]    Very  well.     You  may 
go  now,  Sophia,  and  execute  my  commission  by-and-bye. 
[Exit  Servant.]    Well,  my  dear  friend  ? 

Bathond. 
I  have  called  upon  two  of  my  brother  officers  to  ask  them 
to  act  as  my  seconds,  but  as  they  were  both  out,  I  left  a  few 
lines  for  them. 

Susan. 
Raymond,  this  duel  must  not  take  place  ! 

Raymond. 
You  are  mad,  Susan !     I  hate  this  De  Jalin,  and  will 
fight  him  I 


ACT  IV.— SCENE  I.  137 

Susan. 
Renounce  me,  Raymond,  for  I  have  only  brought  mis- 
fortune upon  you ! 

Raymond. 
You  shall  be  my  wife  !  I  have  svrom  it  to  you  and  to 
myself.  [Paiises.]  But  I  maybe  killed;  one  man  is  as 
good  as  another  on  the  field ;  Monsieur  de  Jalin  is  brave, 
and  will  defend  himself.  I  will  not  die  witho"Ut  giving  you 
my  name.  I  will  send  a  few  lines  to  my  notary,  and  we  will 
be  married  before  I  fight. 

l^Seats  himself,  and  isjihotU  to  open  her  desk.'} 

Susan. 
[^Starting.2  '  What  would  you  do  ? 

Raymond. 
Write  to  my  notary  to  come  here ;  will  you  have  my 
letter  sent? 

Susan. 
It  is  useless.     There  is  time  enough  for  that  hereafter. 

Raymond. 
On  the  contrary,  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost. 

Susan. 
Well,  then,  I.  will  furnish  you  with  writing  materials. 

Raymond. 
There  is  all  that  I  require  in  this  desk. 

Susan. 
[^Confused.'}     No  I     Oh,  no  I 

Raymond. 
Why,  you  were  writing,  as  I  entered  I 

Susan. 
'  Raymond,  I  beg  of  you  not  to  open  that  desk  I 
12* 


138  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Raymond. 
I  will  not  open  it,  if  you  were  writing  that  which  I  should 
not  see  I 

Susan. 
Still  suspicious? 

Raymond. 
[Coldly.']    No,  my  dear  Susan,  I  respect  your  secrets. 

"^  SCSAN. 

Open,  then,  and  read,  since  you  still  doubt  me. 

Raymond. 
May  I? 

Susan. 
Yesl 

[^Raymond  13  about  to  open  the  desk,  when  Susan  stops 
him.'] 

Susan. 
Good  heavens  1  how  suspicious  you  are  I 

Raymond. 
Do  not  accuse  me  of  that  !•   I  am  only  a  little  curious  I 
You  authorized  me  to  look — 

Susan. 
Promise  not  to  laugh  at  me  1 

Raymond. 
I  promise. 

Susan. 
If  you  knew  what  I  have  been  writing — 

Raymond. 
Well,  I  am  about  to  know — 

Susan. 
You  will  be  highly  edified,  when  you  find  that  I  was  order- 
ing some  articles  for  our  journey — 

Raymond. 
What? 


ACT  IV.— SCENE  I.  139 

Susan. 
[Impatiently.']     Oh  heavens  !     Some  laces,  embroidered 
skirts,  flounced  robes,  etc.     These  details  must  greatly  in- 
terest a  man ! 

Raymond. 
And  that  was  your  great  secret  ? 

Susan. 
Yes! 

Eaymond. 
Then  you  were  writing  to  your  dressmaker. 

Susan. 
Precisely  I 

Raymond. 
And  so,  while  I  was  preparing  for  this  duel,  you  were 
ordering  dresses  I     Come,  Susan,  you  must  take  me  for  a 
fool  I 

Susan. 
Raymond  1 

Raymond. 
I  mil  know  to  whom  you  were  writing  1 

Susan. 
If  it  comes  to  that,  you  shall  not  I 

[Opens  the  desk,  and  seizes  the  letter.'] 

Raymond. 
Take  care ! 

Susan. 
A  menace  1  Pray  by  what  right  do  you  threaten  me  ? 
Thank  God,  I  am  not  yet  your  wife  I  I  am  here,  in  my 
own 'house,  free,  mistress  of  my  own  actions,  as  I  leave  you 
free,  and  master  of  yours  !  Do  I  question  you  ?  Do  I  ran- 
sack your  papers  ? 

Raymond. 
Give  me  the  letter  1 

Susan. 
You  shall  not  have  it !     I  tell  you,  I  never  yet  yielded  to 


140  THE  DEMI-MONDB. 

violence.     I  have  told  you  the  truth,  you  may  believe  what 
you  please ;  I  lay  no  restraint  on  your  imagination. 

Raymond. 
I  believe  you  are  deceiving  me ! 

SOSAN. 

Be  it  so  I 

Batmokd. 
[^Orasping  her  arm.']     Susan  I 

Susan. 
Enough,  sir  1    I  free  you  from  your  engagement ;  hence- 
forth all  is  at  an  end  between  us  ! 

Hatmond. 
You  have  played  that  game  once  before,  Madame,  but 
this  time  it  will  not  succeed  I 

Susan. 
With  what  kind  of  man  have  I  to  deal  ? 

Bathond. 
With  a  man  who  only  asked  you  for  sincerity  in  exchange 
for  the  honorable  name  he  was  ready  to  give  you,  and  who 
is  now  about  to  fight  in  order  to  establish  your  innocence  1 
For  the  last  ten  days  I  have  met  your  falsehoods  and  du- 
plicity by  loyalty,  frankness,  and  confidence ;  but  now  I  am 
resolved,  at  all  hazards,  to  know  the  whole  truth  !  If  this 
letter  does  not  contain  it  all,  at  least,  judging  from  your 
confusion,  it  will  afford  some  clue  to  its  discovery.  So  have 
it  I  must  and  will  1  Give  it  to  me,  or  I  will  wrest  it  from 
you! 

Susan. 
You  shall  not  have  it ! 

Batmond. 
Give  me  the  letter ! 

Susan. 
Raymond,  would  you  use  violence  against  a  woman  ? 


ACT  IV.— SCENE  I.  14X 

Raymond. 
The  letter,  I  say ! 

Susan. 
Well,  then,  I  do  not — I  never  did  love  you  !     I  have  de- 
ceived you  1     Now  will  you  leave  me  ! 

Ratmoni), 
The  letter !  [^Seizes  her  hand  containing  it.'] 

Susan. 

Raymond,  I  will  tell  you  all  1  But  heavens,  you  hurt  me  I 
I  am  not  guilty !     In  the  name  of  your  mother — 

{_He  seizes  the  letter.  She  sinks  upon  a  chair.] 
Unhappy  that  I  am  1  Yes,  read  it ;  but  I  will  be  revenged  1 
I  swear  it  1 

Raymond. 

[_Iieads  vrith  trembling  voice."]  "Spare  me,  I  implore 
you  I  I  must  see  yon  ;  I  will  explain  all ;  I  will  do  as  you 
say.  It  is  not  my  fault  that  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  loves  me  I 
As  for  me,  I  adore  him !  This  is  my  only  excuse  1  Be 
generous ;  do  not,  oh  do  not  betray  me  !  I  should  die  if  my 
shame  were  revealed  to  him  I  I  promise  to  reUnquish  all 
hope  of  becoming  his  wife ;  but  oh,  do  not  expose  me  to 
his  scorn  !"  And  yet  I  believed  her  1  \^Hides  his  face  in 
his  hands.]  What  have  I  done?  How  have  I  sinned 
against  you,  Susan,  that  you  should  thus  deceive  me  ? 
Here,  here,  is  your  letter;  farewell !  {^Starts  to  go  out,  but 
sinks  into  a  chair  and  weeps.] 

Susan. 
Raymond ! 

Raymond. 
Susan,  you  have  brought  tears  to  the  eyes  of  a  man  who 
never  wept  before,  except  at  the  grave  of  his  mother  1 

Susan. 
You  have  bruised  my  arms  and  hands,  Raymond  ! 


142  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Raymond. 
I  ask  your  pardon ;  I  was  very  rude — but  oh,  how  I  loved 

you! 

Susan. 
And  I  too  loved  you ! 

Raymond. 
Had  you  loved,  you  would  never  have  deceived  me  thus  1 

Susan. 
No  woman  in  my  place  would  have  made  the  avowal  that 
you  asked  of  me  1  I  loved  and  esteemed  you,  and  I  wished 
to  be  loved  and  esteemed  in  return.  I  will  tell  you  my 
•  whole  history.  There  is  one  act,  and  one  only,  for  which  I 
have  cause  to  blush.  I  am  less  culpable  than  I  appear.  I 
was  alone  in  the  world,  with  no  one  to  counsel,  no  one  to 
support  me  I  I  should  have  confessed  this  to  you.  You 
are  generous,  and  would  have  pardoned  me.  As  it  is,  you 
have  lost  all  confidence  in  me.  But  if  I  am  not  pure  enough 
to  be  the  wife  of  a  man  like  yourself,  I  at  least  love  you 
enough  to  be  cared  for  in  return.  Nothing  obliges  me  to 
tell  you  this  now,  Raymond ;  believe  in  me,  I  love,  indeed, 
I  love  you ! 

Raymond. 

For  whom  was  that  letter? 

Susan. 
If  I  tell  you,  yon  will  challenge  him  I 

Raymond. 
I  will  not  I    But  tell  me  his  name ! 

Susan. 
,     This  man  is  nothing  to  me  now.     That  must  be  apparent, 
since  I  wrote  to  him  that  I  loved  you. 

Raymond. 
By  what  right  does  he  forbid  your  becoming  my  wife  ? 


ACT  IV.— SCENE  L  143 

Susan. 
I  will  tell  you  all  when  you  are  calmer  1 

Raymond. 
Farewell,  then  I 

Susan. 
Stay,  Raymond,  I  virill  confess  now ! 

Raymond. 
I  am  listening  I 

Susan. 
This  letter  was  for — 

Raymond. 
Oliver  ? 

Susan. 

No  ;  so  help  me,  heaven !     But  promise  me  not  to  seek  a 
quarrel  with  this  person  ? 

Raymond. 
I  promise ! 

Susan. 
I  was  writing  to  the  Marquis  de  Thonnerins.    [He  starts.'] 
Raymond,  remember  I  was  a  poor  girl,  abandoned  by  every 
one.     The  Marquis  had  the  right  to  forbid  my  becoming 
your  wife,  for  to  him  I  owe  all  that  I  possess. 

Raymond. 
Then  your  marriage  ? 

Susan. 
Was  a  fraud  I 

Raymond. 
And  the  papers  you  showed  me  ? 

Susan. 
Were  forgeries ! 

Raymond. 
And  your  fortune  ? 

Susan. 

Is  all  derived  from  the  Marquis  I 


144  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Raymond. 
Into  what  infamy  were  you  dragging  me,  in  return  for  my 
love  and  confidence  ?  Instead  of  honorably  and  nobly  con- 
fessing all,  you  would  have  married  me  under  a  false  name, 
and  have  brought  me  a  fortune,  the  fruits  of  your  shame 
and  dishonor!  Had  I  by  chance,  after  marriage,  learned 
all  this,  I  should  certainly  have  killed  you  and  destroyed 
myself  1  Oh,  Susan,  you  not  only  did  not  love,  but  you  did 
not  even  esteem  or  respect  me  I 

Susan. 
Yes,  yes  1    I  am  a  miserable  wretch,  unworthy  of  your 
love  or  remembrance.     Leave  me,  Raymond !     Go  and  for- 
get the  wretched  cause  of  all  your  sorrow  1 

Raymond. 
But  you  have  not  confessed  all ;  this  is  only  a  portion  of 
your  shame.     Tell  me  the  rest — 

SCSAN. 

I  have  told  you  all  I  - 

Raymond. 

But  Oliver ;  it  was  neither  misery,  nor  poverty,  nor  inex- 
perience, that  threw  you  into  his  arms.  If  he  were  your 
lover,  it  must  have  been  through  very  wantonness,  and  I  feel 
that  I  can  never  forgive  you,  if  you  have  been  the  mistress 
of  that  man. 

SVBAX. 

Oliver  has  never  been  aught  to  me.  He  told  you  so  him- 
self, as  you  know. 

Raymond. 
Will  you  swear  it  ? 

ScSAN. 

I  swear  I 

Raymond. 
And  you  really  love  me  ? 


ACT  IV.— SCENE  I.  145 

Susan. 
Would  I  have  confessed  all,  if  I  did  not  love  you  ? 

Eaymond. 
Well,  then,  Susan,  give  me  a  proof  of  your  love. 

Susan. 
Speak  1 

Raymond. 
Return  to  the  Marquis  de  Thonnerins  all  that  you  ever 
received  at  his  hands  I 

Susan. 
[Bings  the  bell.}     I  will  dp  so  instantly. 

Enter  Servant. 
\^Susan  seals  up  papers.    To  Servant.']    Take  this  pack- 
age immediately  to  Monsieur  de  Th«nnerins  without  await- 
ing a  reply. 

Servant. 
The  Marquis  is  ascending  the  stairs. 

Susan. 
He! 

Raymond. 
[To  Servant.']    Ask  the  Marquis  to  wait.     [_Exit  Ser- 
vant.]    Give  me  those  papers,  Susan;  I  will  myself  return 
them. 

Susan. 
You  terrify  me  I 

Raymond. 
Oh,  fear  nothing!  Yet,  Susan,  while  it  is  still  time, 
decide !  Retain  those  documents,  and  I  leave  you  forever ; 
or  give  them  to  me,  renew  the  oath  you  took,  and  if  I  sur- 
vive this  duel  you  shall  be  my  wife !  Oblivion  shall  cov.er 
the  past,  and  I  shall  only  hold  you  accountable  for  your 
actions  from  the  day  of  our  meeting. 

Susan. 

My  noble,  generous  Raymond  !     I  have  told  the  truth ! 

18 


146  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Raymond. 
Ah,  Susan,  I  little  dreamed  how  dearly  I  loved  you ! 

[Exit.'} 

SCSAN. 

I  have  staked,  upon  a  single  die,  all  my  life,  all  the  past, 
all  the  future  I  The  game  is  indeed  a  desperate  one  !  Oli- 
ver alone  can  ruin  or  save  me.  If  he  really  does  love  me, 
as  he  pretends  1  It  would  be  strange — [^Puts  on  her  shawl.'] 
Well,  we  shall  see,  we  shall  see  1 


END   OF  FOURTH   ACT. 


ACT    FIFTH. 

Room  at  Oliver^s  House. 

{^Oliver  is  seeded,  writing. '\ 

Enter  Hippolyte. 

HiPPOLYTE. 

[  Touching  Oliver'' s  shoulder.']     It  is  I ! 

Oliver. 
Sealing  a  letter.]    Well  ? 

Hippolyte. 
Well,  I  have  executed  all  your  commissions. 

Oliver. 
You  hare  seen  Madame  de  Loman,  and  have  assured  her 
that  her  name  shall  not  be  connected  with  this  duel  ? 

Hippolyte. 
Yes.     But  she  feels  great  alarm  about  your  safety.     How- 
ever, I  was  able  to  reassure  her  on  that  score,  inasmuch  as  I 
myself  feel  perfectly  easy  about  it ! 

Oliver. 
How  so  ? 

Hippolyte. 
Tlys  duel  will  not  take  place ! 

Oliver. 
Pray  why  ? 

Hippolyte. 

Because  I  have  seen  the  Marquis,  and  something  has 
occurred  to  prevent  it — 

147 


148  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Oliver. 
Nothing  can  now  prevent  De  Nanjac  and  myself  from 
fighting.     Unless,  indeed,  he  apologises,  which  is  hardly 
probable — 

HiPPOLTTB. 

That  depends  upon  yourself  1 

OUVKR. 

Pray  explain. 

HiPPOLTTE. 

I  have  seen  the  Marquis — 

Oliver. 
He  refuses  to  act  as  one  of  my  seconds  ? 

HiPPOLTTK. 

Yes! 

Oliver. 
I  thought  as  much ;  he  fears  being  compromised — 

Hippolyte. 
And  he  is  right;  these  matters  do  not  suit  his  age  or 
position.     On  his  daughter's  account,  his  name  should  not 
be  connected  with  this  affair.     But  he  has  seen  De  Nanjac, 
who  knows  all — 

Oliver. 
All! 

IIlPPOLYTE. 

"Well,  all  relating  to  the  Marquis.  De  Nanjac  found  a 
letter  which  Susan  was  writing  to  Monsieur  de  Thonnerins. 
There  ensued  a  violent  scene,  and  Madame  was  forced  to  ac- 
knowledge the  relationship  which  formerly  existed  between 
herself  and  the  Marquis.  Raymond  pardoned  her  on  con- 
dition of  her  returning  to  Monsieur  de  Thonnerins  all  that 
she  had  ever  received  from  him. 

Oliver. 
And  she  did  so  ? 


ACT  v.— SCENE  I.  149 

HiPPOLYTE. 

So  it  would  appear ! 

Oliver. 
This  astonishes  me  1    But  how  does  it  relate  to  the  duel  ? 

HiPPOLYTE. 

It  was  De  Nanjac  himself  who  made  the  restitution  to  the 
Marquis,  and  the  latter,  aware  of  the  disagreement  existing 
between  you,  profited  by  the  occasion  to  tell  De  Nanjac  that 
Madame  d'Ange  was  unworthy  of  him,  and  that  your  con- 
duct throughout  had  been  that  of  a  true  friend.  You  know 
what  a  lover  is  when  in  a  false  position;  the  more  the 
woman  of  his  affections  is  attacked,  the  more  does  he  con- 
sider it  incumbent  on  him  to  defend  her.  Monsieur  de  Xan- 
jac  haughtily  said  to  the  Marquis, — "  Sir,  from  the  moment 
I  restored  to  you  all  that  Madame  d'Ange  owes  to  your 
generosity,  it  suited  me  to  forget  that  she  had  ever  been  con- 
nected with  you.  As  for  Monsieur  de  Jalin,  who  com- 
menced by  assuring  me  that  he  was  only  a  friend  to  Madame 
d'Ange,  and  who  afterwards  gave  me  to  understand  dif- 
ferently,— as  for  Monsieur  de  Jalin,  whom  I  once  considered 
my  friend,  but  who  has  trifled  with  me,  let  him  say  to  me, 
on  his  honor,  that  he  has  been  the  lady's  lover,  and  I  assure 
you  that  I  will  apologize  to  him,  take  him  by  the  hand, 
and  never  again  see  Madame  d'Ange !" 

Oliver. 
Have  you  finished  ? 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Yes ;  you  see  the  duel  cannot  take  place  I 

Oltveb. 
My  poor  Hippolyte !     I  feel  grateful  for  your  kind  in- 
tentions, but  you  have  wasted  time — 

•  HiPPOLYTE. 

How? 

IS* 


150  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Oliver. 
Becanse  Madame.  d'Ange  is  now  out  of  the  question  I  I 
only  know  two  things — that  there  have  been  bitter  words 
between  De  Nanjac  and  myself,  and  that  to  avoid  a  duel, 
by  criminating  a  woman,  however  justly,  is  an  act  unworthy 
of  a  man  of  honor.  Monsieur  de  Nanjac  is  a  soldier;  I 
am  a  man  of  the  people.  What  would  be  the  inference 
were  this  duel  not  to  take  place  ?  Let  things  follow  their 
own  course !  De  Nanjac  is  more  to  be  pitied  than  I  am.  I 
can  understand  his  feelings.  I  have  a  desire  to  press  his 
hand,  and  yet  I  am,  perhaps,  about  to  kill  him !  Such  is 
the  false  logic  of  the  code  of  social  honor  1 

HiPPOLTTE. 

Yon  are  right!  It  is  a  fearful  thing  to  slay  a  man! 
When  I  look  at  my  wife,  and  reflect  that  for  her  I  have 

imbrued  my  hands  in  a  fellow  creature's  blood By  the 

way,  do  you  know  what  she  has  done  ? 

Oliver. 
No! 

HiPPOLTTE. 

I  have  just  learned  that  she  has  eloped  with  Monsieur  de 
Latour,  who  is  a  defaulter  to  the  amount  of  four  hundred 
thousand  francs !  Heavens,  how  she  has  fallen  !  For,  unlike 
many  of  her  sex,  she  has  neither  poverty,  evil  example,  nor 
ignorance,  to  plead  in  her  extenuation !  But  to  return  to 
business.  The  Marquis  having  declined,  De  Maucroix  will 
act  as  one  of  your  seconds.  We  have  called  on  Monsieur 
de  Nanjac's  friends,  and  have  appointed  three  o'clock  for 
the  time  of  meeting.  [^Looking  at  his  watch.']  We  have, 
therefore,  only  three  quarters  of  an  hour  left. 

Oliver.  , 

What  place  have  you  decided  on  ? 


ACT  v.— SCENE  I.  151 

HlPrOI,YTE. 

The  grounds  behind  your  house.  They  are  quiet  and 
unfrequented.  Besides,  in  case  of  accident,  your  house  will 
be  at  hand. 

Oliver. 

What  are  to  be  the  weapons  ? 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Swords.  With  a  sword  you  can  defend  your  life;  but 
with  pistols,  the  most  awkward  man  in  the  world — a  coward, 
even  a  child — might  kill  you  !  Have  you  any  further  com- 
mands ? 

Oliver. 

Yes ;  should  anything  occur  to  me,  you  will  there  IPoint- 
ing  to  the  tahJe]  find  a  letter,  which  you  will  immediately 
hand  to  Mademoiselle  de  Sanceneaux,  as  she  is  to  leave  the 
city  to-night,  and  this  will  alter  her  movements. 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Is  that  all  ? 

Oliver. 
Yes. 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Have  you  no  message  for  Madame  d'Ange  ? 

Oliver. 
No ;  she  will  be  here  I 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Did  she  tell  you  so  ? 

Oliver. 

JN'o ;  but  she  is  only  brave  and  proud  in  the  hour  of  vic- 
tory I  When  she  knows  that  by  one  word  I  can  prevent 
her  marriage,  she  will  not  stop  at  anything  to  prevent  my 
speaking.     Yes,  she  will  come  1 

HiPPOLYTE. 

Do  you  know  what  I  believe  ? 


152  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Oliver. 
What? 

HiPPOLYTE. 

That  you  are  more  in  love  with  Susan  than  you  are  will-    • 
ing  to  admit,  even  to  yourself! 

Omteb. 
It  may  be  so.     The  human  heart  is  a  strange  mystery  I 

Enter  Servant. 

Servant. 
A  young  lady  wishes  to  see  Monsieur. 

OUVEB. 

Her  name  ? 

[^Servant  hands  a  card."] 

[^Beading.2     "Marcella."    Admit  the  lady. 

[Exit  Servant."] 

HiPPOLYTE. 

I  will  step  into  the  next  room.     Remember,  you  have  but 
a  quarter  of  an  hour;  I  will  rap  when  the  time  arrives. 

OUVER. 

Fear  not !     I  shall  be  ready. 

[Exit  HrppoLYTB.     Oliver  opens  a  door  to  the  right."] 

Enter  Marcella. 

Oliver. 
You  here,  Marcella  ?     How  imprudent  I 

Marcella. 
No  one  saw  me  enter ;  besides,  it  matters  little  to  me  what 
people  think !     I  leave  here  to-night,  perhaps  forever,  and  I 
wished  to  see  you  before  going. 

Oliver. 
I  should  have  called  on  you  previous  to  your  departure. 


ACT  v.— SCENE  I.  153 

Marcella. 
That  might  have  been  impossible ;  you  might  have  for- 
gotten me. 

Omver. 
Is  that  intended  as  a  reproach  ? 

Marcella. 
By  what  right  can  I  reproach  you  ?  What  am  I  to  you  ? 
Nothing  I  Am  I  even  your  friend  ?  Am  I  worthy  of  your 
confidence  ?  If  you  had  a  grief,  would  you  confide  it  to 
me  ?  If  danger  threatened,  would  you  even  desire  to  press 
my  hand  before  exposing  yourself  to  it  ?  Oh  no,  no !  I 
am  very  miserable ! 

Oliver. 
Why  this  distress,  Marcella  ? 

Marcella. 
How  can  you  expect  me  to  be  calm  and  composed  when 
you  are  about  to  fight,  perhaps  to  be  killed  ? 

Oliver. 
Who  said  I  was  about  to  fight  ? 

Marcella. 
My  aunt ;  who  called  on  me  after  leaving  Madame  d'Ange's 
house,  and  told  me  all,  even  to  the  lady's  name,  concerning 
whom  the  duel  originated  1 

Oliver. 
She  was  mistaken. 

Marcella. 
Oh,  no  1     Had  you  fallen,  I  should  only  have  heard,  like 
any  stranger,  the  simple  fact.     You  would  not  have  be- 
stowed upon  me  a  moment's  thought,  in  the  hour  of  danger. 
But  this  duel  shall  not  take  place  1 

Oliver. 
How  will  you  prevent  it  ? 


154  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Marcella. 
I  will  denounce  you  to  the  first  magistrate  1 

Olitke. 
By  what  right  ? 

Marcklla. 
By  the  right  which  every  woman  possesses,  of  saving  the 
life  of  the  man  she  loves  1 

Olives. 
Then  you  do  love  me  ? 

Marcella. 

You  know  it  well ! 

Oliveb. 

Marcella ! 

Marcella. 

"Who  had  sufiBcient  influence  over  me  to  change  my  whole 
life  by  a  single  word  ?  Who  caused  me  to  quit  the  society 
in  which  I  was  reared  ?  Who  induced  me  to  determine  to 
live  in  a  retired  village,  and  support  myself  by  my  own  ex- 
ertions ?  For  whom  was  I  about  to  leave  my  home,  with 
naught  to  sustain  me  except  the  hope  of  obtaining  your 
esteem  ?  For  whom,  in  fine,  does  a  woman  thus  transform 
herself?  For  no  one  except  the  man  she  loves !  Yet  in 
my  heart  I  nourished  a  secret  hope  ;  I  said  to  myself,  "  He 
is  putting  me  to  the  test ;  when  he  finds  that  I  am  a  true 
woman,  and  that  he  can  transform  me  into  whatever  he 
wishes,  who  knows  but  that  he  will  love  me  ?''  This  has 
been  my  sole  thought,  aim,  and  object !  And  now  I  learn 
that  you  are  to  fight — and  for  another  1  Think  you,  I  will 
permit  this  duel?  The  woman  you  love  may  do  so,  but 
I,  who  love  you,  will  never  allow  it ! 

Oliver. 
I  protest  to  you,  that  if  you  take  a  step  or  say  a  word  to 
prevent  this  meeting,  and  succeed  in  your  object,  you  will 
cover  my  name  with  infamy !     It  will  be  alleged  that  I  used 


ACT  v.— SCENE  I.  155 

you  to  avoid  fighting !     I  swear  to  you,  Marcella,  I  will  not 
Burvive  the  dishonor ! 

Marcella. 
Oh  heavens !      I  will  say  nothing,  do  nothing  I     I  will 
only  pray ! 

Oliver. 
Now,  Marcella,  you  must  return  home !     I  will  see  you 
again  soon. 

Marcella. 
You  would  send  me  away  because  this  duel  is  to  take 
place  now — at  once  I 

Oliver. 
No ;  perhaps  it  may  never  take  place  !     There  is  a  way 
of  settling  the  matter  amicably,  and  now  that  I  know  you 
love  me,  I  wish  to  live  ! 

Marcella. 
Promise  me  that  you  will  not  fight  to-day. 

OLrVEB. 

I  promise.  [Hippolyte  knocks.^ 

Oliver. 
\^Loudly.']     I  will  be  with  you ! 

Marcella. 
What  was  that  ?     Who  ? 

Oliver. 
One  of  my  friends. 

Marcella. 
One  of  your  seconds  ? 

Oliver. 
Yes. 

Marcella. 
He  comes  to  take  you  to  the  field !     No,  I  will  not  leave 
you! 

Oliver. 
My  seconds  have  need  of  rae  only  for  discussion.     It  is 
for  that  purpose  Hippolyte  called  me. 


156  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

Marcklla.' 
I  tremble ! 

Oliver. 

Listen  to  me,  Marcella !  I  too  have  had  a  hope — a 
dream !  I  was  proud  and  happy  to  find  that  my  influence 
over  you  developed  the  beauty  and  goodness  of  your  cha- 
racter. A  mysterious  attraction  continually  drew  me 
toward  you.  I  could  not  explain  to  myself  the  cause,  and 
yet  I  wished  you  to  command  the  world's  admiration  and 
respect.  It  became  the  darling  ambition  of  my  heart. 
This  is  all  I  can  now  say  to  you,  Marcella,  for  when  life  is 
at  stake  one  has  no  right  to  speak  of  hope,  nor  of  the 
future. 

Marcella. 

Oliver !  dear  Oliver  I 

Oliver. 

One  hour  will  decide  all  I  You  must  not  be  seen  here. 
Return  to  your  aunt,  and  wait  for  me  at  her  house.  In  an 
hour  we  shall  meet,  I  promise  you.  I  am  only  going  into 
the  adjoining  room.     Courage  1     Courage  I  lExit.'] 

Marcklla. 
May  Heaven  protect  him ! 

Enter  Susan. 
Susan. 


Marcella. 

Susan. 


Marcella  I 

You  here,  Madame  ? 

Why  are  you  here  ?  , 

Marcella. 
I  learned  of  this  duel,  and  came  here  on  the  instant — 

SCSAX. 

Have  you  seen  Oliver  ? 


ACT  v.— SCENE  I.  157 

Marcella. 
I  have  seen  him  ! 

Susan. 
When  is  it  to  take  place  ? 

Marcklla. 
It  will  not  take  place  at  all,  I  hope  1 

Susan. 
Indeed ! 

Marcella. 
There  is  one  mode  of  preventing  it. 

Susan. 
And  that  is — 

Marcella. 
I  know  not ;  but  Oliver  has  promised  me  to  adopt  it. 

Susan. 
Ifever !     Oliver  will  fight,  for  he  can  only  avoid  doing 
so  by  ruining  a  lady,  and  he  will  never  resort  to  such  base- 
ness.    He  has  deceived  you  I 

Marcella. 
He? 

Susan. 
Answer  me ;  what  did  you  tell  him  when  you  came  here  ? 

Marcella. 
That  this  duel  should  not  take  plaue  I 

Susan. 
And  that  you  loved  him  ? 

Marcella. 

Yes  I 

Susan. 
And  that  you  would  not  leave  his  side  ? 

Marcella. 
Yes  I     How  did  you  know  ? 

14 


158  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

SUSAX. 

Because,  in  a  similar  ease,  every  woman  would  do  the  same. 
He  then  promised  you  to  settle  the  affair  without  resort  to 
arms? 

Mabcella. 
Yes! 

Susan. 
Doubtless  he  told  you  he  loved  you  ? 

Mabcella. 
Oh  yes  1     But  there  was  no  need  of  that  I 

SCSAN. 

Well,  he  deceived  you ;  he  only  endeavored  to  gain  time. 
He  is  gone  to  the  place  of  meeting  I 

Mabcella. 
No ;  he  is  in  that  room ! 

SCSAN. 

Are  you  certain  ? 

Mabcella. 
I  have  only  to  call  him  and  he  will  come  1 

Susan. 
Do  so,  then ! 

Mabcella. 
Oliver  I     Oliver ! 

Susan. 
^Throws  open  the  door.']    Empty  1     Now  are  you  con- 
vinced ? 

Mabcella. 
Impossible  I 

Susan. 
[Rings  the  hell.']    Do  you  still  doubt  ? 

Enter  Seevant. 

Susan. 
[  To  Servant.]    Has  your  mast«r  gone  out  ? 


ACT  v.— SCENE  L  X59 

Servant. 
He  has,  Madame. 

Susan. 
Alone  ? 

Servant. 
No,  Madame ;  accompanied  by  Messieurs  Maucroix  and 
Richond. 

Susan. 
Did  he  leave  any  message  for  Mademoiselle  or  myself  ? 

Servant. 
None,  Madame ! 

Susan. 
That  will  do.     \^Exit  Servant.']    "Where  would  you  go, 
Marcella  ? 

Marcella. 
I  must  seek  him ;  I  must  save  him ! 

Susan. 
Where  will  you  seek  him  ?  Do  you  know  where  he  is  f 
And  how  save  him  ?  Wait,  that  is  all  we  can  do !  We 
must  abide  the  turn  of  fortune  1  Oliver  and  Raymond  are 
probably  fighting  at  this  very  moment!  They  are  both 
brave,  they  hate  each  other,  and  one  or  both  must  fall  1 

Marcella. 
Merciful  heaven  1 

Susan. 
Now  listen ;  Oliver  has  either  deceived  you  or  myself,  for 
to  me  also  has  he  professed  attachment  1 

Marcella. 
To  you?     When? 

SUSAN- 

Two  hours  since  !  My  love,  fortune,  future,  all,  are  now 
at  stake  !  If  Raymond  survives,  I  am  saved ;  but  if  he 
falls,  Oliver's  love  is  my  only  resource  1     Without  it  I  shall 


160  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

be  mocked  at  and  despised !  Yon  also  mast  \dsh  to  know 
the  truth.  The  same  man  has  professed  attachment  for  us 
both !  It  is  an  important  question  to  ascertain  which  of 
the  two  he  really  loves  !  When  he  returns,  he  must  find 
but  one  of  us  here,  for  before  us  both  he  would  never  ex- 
plain. The  other  shall  conceal  herself  behind  that  door, 
and  shall  hear  all.  I  will  be  that  one,  if  you  wish.  If  he 
repeats  that  he  loves  you,  I  will  leave  without  a  word. 
Well  ?    Why  do  you  not  reply  ? 

Mabcella. 
Oh,  Madame,  I  scarcely  comprehend  what  you  say  I    You 
terrify  me  by  your  frightful  coldness  and  composure  I 

Susan. 
Hark  I     Listen ! 

Mabcklla. 

What? 

Susan. 

A  carriage  1     ^Looks  out  of  the  ttnndow.] 

Marcella. 
It  is  he  I 

Susan. 

Blood  has  been  shed  1     Enter  there  I     [Points  to  another 
room.'] 

Mabcella. 
I  would  see  him  1 

Susax. 

Enter,  I  tell  you,  it  is  he — Oliver ! 

Marcella. 
Saved !     He  lives  I     Oh  heaven,  now  I  can  bear  the 
worst  I 

Susan. 

lPush£s  Marcella  into  a  room  at  left.]    Enter,  I  say  I 


ACT  v.— SCENE  I.  ^gj 


Enter  Oliver,  slightly  wounded. 

You  here,  Susan  ? 

Oliver. 

Susan. 

You  did  not  expect  to 

see  me  ? 

In  truth,  no ! 

Oliver. 

Are  you  wounded  ? 

SUSAX, 

A  mere  scratch ! 

Oliver. 

And  Raymond ! 

Susan. 

Oliver. 
Come,  Susan,  admit  that  I  was  right !     Did  I  lie  to  him  ? 

Susan. 
No  I 

Oliver. 
Did  I  do  more  than  an  honorable  man  should  have  done  ? 

Susan. 
No! 

Oliver. 

Which  was  in  the  right  in  this  quarrel  ? 

SCSAN. 

You  were  1 

Oliver. 
Then  his  death  is  a  misfortune,  not  a  crime  ? 

Susan. 
His  death ! 

Oliver. 

Yes !  Listen  to  me,  Susan.  From  the  day  you  told  me 
here  that  you  did  not  love  me,  jealousy  took  possession  of  my 
soul.  I  feigned  indiflference,  but  I  adored  you  with  that  strange, 
fatal  passion,  with  which  you  have  inspired  all  who  have 
known  you.     Monsieur  de  Thonnerins,  that  old  man  who, 

11* 


162  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

in  your  arms,  forgot  even  his  daughter !  Raymond,  whom 
nothing  could  induce  to  think  ill  of  you,  and  who  preferred 
killing  his  friend  to  being  convinced  of  the  truth,  and  who, 
had  he  thus  silenced  the  only  tongue,  which  sooner  or  later 
could  have  exposed  you,  would  have  made  you  his  wife! 
"Well,  if  I  threw  obstacles  in  the  way  of  your  marriage,  if  I 
told  Raymond  everything,  if  on  the  field  I  forgot  that  he 
had  been  my  friend  and  killed  him,  it  was  not  on  account 
of  his  ofiTence,  but  to  prevent  his  becoming  your  husband ; 
for  I  loved,  I  still  love  you  !  Through  me  you  have,  in  one 
moment,  lost  all  1  So  you  must  become  mine  !  We  will 
never  separate !    Let  us  away  at  once  1 

Susan. 
Be  it  so,  let  us  away  1 

Oliver. 
[^ Takes  her  in  his  arms.']     At  last!     [^Bursts  into  a 
mocking  laugh.']     Oh,  it  has  cost  me  trouble  enough ! 

SUSAW. 

What  do  you  mean  ? 

Oliver. 
You  have  lost,  my  charming  friend,  and  must  pay  the 
forfeit !     Look ! 

JSnter  Raymond  and  Hippoltte. 

Susan. 
[  Turns  and  perceives  them.]     Raymond ! 

Enter  Marcella. 

Marcella. 
\_Throws  herself  into  Oliver^ s  arms.]     Ah  1 

Oliver. 
Pardon  me,  my  own,  my  wife  1     It  was  to  save  my  friend  ! 

Raymond. 
Thanks,  Oliver!     In  truth,  I  have  been  foully  duped! 


ACT  v.— SCENE  I.  Ig3 

You  have  taken  care  of  my  honor  to  the  last ;  nothing  has 
changed  your  friendship :  neither  my  unjust  suspicions,  ray 
hatred,  nor  this  wound,  which  fortunately  is  not  serious! 
\^Takes  his  hand.']  Henceforth  there  is  nothing  between 
Madame  d'Ange  and  myself,  except  a  little  pecuniary  affair. 
Perhaps  you  will  add  another  to  your  many  kindnesses  by 
settling  it  for  me,  \^H(tnds  Oliver  a  paper,]  so  that  I  may 
not  be  obliged  to  address  her  even  a  single  word  ? 

[Marcella  and  Raymond  converse  aside.] 

Susan. 
[  To  Oliver.]     Sir,  you  are  a  knave  and  a  scoundrel  1 

Oliver. 
Oh,  no  more  fine  phrases !  When  the  life  and  honor  of 
two  men  have  been  the  stake,  you  should  put  the  best  face  on 
your  loss !  I  received  a  wound  in  order  to  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  proving  the  truth.  I  do  not  prevent  your  mar- 
riage; it  is  reason,  justice,  the  laws  of  society,  which  for- 
bids an  honorable  man  from  marrying  any  other  than  a 
woman  of  virtue !  You  have  lost  a  husband,  but  at  least 
your  fortune  still  remains — 

SrsAX. 
What  do  you  mean  ? 

Oliver. 
By  this  act  Raymond  settles  on  you  an  amount  equivalent 
to  the  fortune  which  you  renounced  at  his  instance. 

Susan. 
[^  Tears  the  papers  into  fragments.]     It  was  name  and 
position  I  sought  from  him,  not  fortune !     In  an  hour  I 
shall  leave  Paris.     To-morrow  I  will  be  out  of  France  1 

Oliver. 
But  you  are  without  means !     You  have  returned  all  to 
the  Marquis — 


164  THE  DEMI-MONDE. 

SnsAN. 

I  know  not  how  it  happened,  but  in  my  confusion  and 

alarm  I  only  returned  to  the  Marquis  some  unimportant 

documents ;  all  the  papers  of  real  value  remain  in  my  desk ! 

So  farewell,  Oliver  1  \_Ex'U.'\ 

Olivkr. 
Had  that  woman  only  employed  her  talents  and  under- 
standing in  a  good,  instead  of  a  bad  cause,  what  could  she 
not  have  accomplished ! 

Raymond. 
[2b  Marcella."]      I   congratulate    you,    Mademoiselle  I 
Tou  are  about  to  marry  the  most  honorable  man  alive  ! 


FINALE. 


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